What is the definition of a relationship and what is the definition of what Carter and I share? Because frankly, I’m so confused. It was never this hard for ladies like Marilyn Monroe and Rosemary Clooney. They were able to easily fall in love, yes they had their blips in the road, but their relationships were well defined. How come mine isn’t?
Is Carter still hung up on this ex-girlfriend? Does he really want to use me for a physical connection and that’s it?
This whole program was supposed to be about changing me, about living, so why do I feel so stuck again? I’m checking off the boxes, I’m moving forward, but instead of a leisurely drive, I’m riding one heck of a roller coaster.
Maybe this is what life is. One giant, nauseating, and confusing roller coaster. Funny, coming from the girl who was born and raised on a merry-go-round.
Kind regards,
Daisy
Dear Life,
Have you ever wrestled so much with your emotions that you feel almost paralyzed?
That’s where I am. Paralyzed.
Hollyn, hell, being with her was one of the most raw and carnal things I’ve ever experienced. As if we were meant to heal each other. I woke up that next morning feeling so damn alive that the plague of Hope’s future didn’t touch me immediately.
But that didn’t last long, not when my lawyer called, informing me that Rebecca might actually have a valid case, and we might have to go to court. How is that even possible? That’s what I want to know. How on earth can someone change their mind about a baby? She signed the papers, and that should be binding. This isn’t elementary school where we can fight over “take-backsies.”
This is a real human life.
The only thing I have going for me right now, the knowledge that Rebecca’s living arrangements, employment, and mental state don’t make her suitable enough to care for Hope.
I just can’t comprehend her thinking in this entire mess. I don’t think I ever will.
Jace
Dear Life,
Own you, yeah, fuck you.
Carter
Step Six: Face Your Fears
HOLLYN
“Pass the Cheez Whiz, you’ve been hogging it this entire time,” I say, reaching for the slowly diminishing can of processed goodness.
“Don’t even think about it.” My hand is slapped away by Grams, Daisy’s grandma. “I’m old and wrinkly, therefore I get to bogart the Cheez Whiz.”
I slouch down in the corner seat of the couch. “But I was the one who brought it.”
Grams pats my leg and sprays a pile into her mouth. “And I already said thank you, dearie. Hasn’t anyone ever told you gloating doesn’t look good on you?”
Shocked, I look to Daisy for help but she just shrugs her shoulders apologetically. “She likes the Whiz.”
“You have to let the elderly get what they want,” Amanda says, licking a Tootsie Pop. Like, actually licking.
“Don’t you know if you suck on the lollipop, you will get to the center faster?” I suggest, my tongue feeling her tongue’s pain with every scrape of her taste bud against the hard-coated candy.
“Sometimes it’s not about instant gratification, but the road you take to get there,” Amanda says, licking again with a purpose.
“I would rather have instant gratification. I’m a sucker.” I wink.
Amanda smirks. “As long as you don’t swallow, then we’re good.”
“Huh?” Daisy asks, looking between us at our interaction.
Grams sprays cheese in her mouth and says, “They’re talking about sexual favors, dearie. It’s something we didn’t go over while we were living together. Would you like to talk about it now?”
All three of us shout “No” at the same time. I like Grams, I think she’s a pretty cool lady, but by no means do I want to sit around Amanda’s couch and discuss sexual favors with her.
“All right.” Grams shrugs. “But I’m here if you want to talk about pleasure without repercussions.”
“Grams!” Daisy’s face is bright red and for the first time all night and since I saw her at the meeting last night, she doesn’t have a worried wrinkle in her brow.
“Oh dearie, it’s good to educate yourself, especially with that beau of yours, Carter.”
“He’s not my beau,” Daisy corrects her quickly. “He’s just a . . .” she searches for the right word, “he’s a guy I know.”
Huh, not even a friend, I wonder what happened last night.
“What do you mean a guy you know?” Grams asks. “You have been fawning over this man for weeks. What’s going on?”
Sighing, Daisy sinks into the couch, her cloud pajama pants riding up her ankles. “I don’t think he sees me as a woman, but rather just a na?ve girl. I’m trying to get away from that girl. I want to be the woman I saw in the mirror when I tried on my bridesmaid dress.”
“Then be her,” Amanda says with conviction. “Don’t let anyone dictate who you’re supposed to be. You and you alone can make that decision.”
“She’s right,” Grams chimes in. “Don’t get so dependent on a man that you lose who you want to be. That’s what I did with your grandfather. And I loved that old coot, but it wasn’t until after he passed that I found who I really was, a closet smoker with a pension to solve every crossword that came my way.”
“You smoke?” Daisy asks, shocked.
“Closet smoker, dearie. Closet smoker.”
“That’s still smoking.”
“Yes, but I won’t necessarily die from the black lung.”
“Something to look forward to.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “I just don’t get it. Will I always be some innocent to him?”
“Maybe that’s what he likes about you,” Amanda suggests.
“Well, I don’t like it about me.” Scanning the room, she sits up, knocking over the bowl of chips next to her. “Amanda, this can’t possibly be what you want for a bachelorette party. Matt is in New Orleans having a great time, and you’re having a slumber party, with an eighty-year-old woman.”
“Hey,” Grams protests.
“Sorry, Grams, but this is pathetic. We should be out drinking, throwing caution to the wind, making poor decisions that will result in great stories later on instead of sulking around a table of junk food with an elderly woman teasing us about pleasure without repercussions.”
I couldn’t agree more. This “bachelorette party” is pathetic. When Amanda came to me about it, I held my tongue for many reasons. One, it’s a sad ladies party and no one wants to know about their sad ladies party. Two, wedding stuff has been very difficult for me, so I didn’t want to go too much into detail. It’s still too raw. Three, it’s what she wanted and who was I to tell her differently? Apparently Daisy has no problem in doing that.
Wincing, I add, “She’s right, Amanda. The night is still young, why don’t we go out? I can see if there is one of those bike bars available you’ve always wanted to try. They might take last-minute reservations.”
“A bike bar sounds fun,” Amanda says, perking up. “Grams, will you be able to pedal and drink?”
Grams waves her hand in front of her face. “Oh no, I’m practically sleeping with my eyes open right now. You girls go have fun. I’m going to help myself up to Daisy’s room to sleep.”
“You can be our bail money if we get in trouble,” I add.