“I’m not crazy,” I insisted.
“No you’re not,” she agreed, through her tears.
“I’m going to be okay. I’m going to be fine,” I struggled. “I’m not like him. I’m just sad.”
“You’re just sad,” she repeated.
“I’ve been cooped up in this house too long and it’s getting to me,” I pulled my hands back and turned around, walked to my dresser and lifted my phone. “I need to be around other people. I need to live a little and I need to forget.”
“Lacey,” my mother tried.
“I’m fine mom,” I demanded, stepping back when she extended her hand to take mine. “Leave me be,” I warned.
She stared at me helplessly.
I remembered that look in her eyes.
It was there the day my brother died.
I closed my eyes, remembering my mother run down the street, seeing my father hold their lifeless son in his arms. She collapsed onto the ground and my father placed Jack’s body into her arms, allowing her to hold her baby one final time. I could still hear the cops trying to convince my parents to let him go and the shrill cry that escaped her mouth when they tried to take him from her. It was my father who wound up taking him from her arms and it was he who laid him on the gurney. They didn’t cover him like they do in the movies, they let his parents, our parents, see him one final time just as he looked when he slept instead of bringing a sheet up to cover his angelic face.
I opened my eyes as the tears streamed my cheeks.
I was the reason that day existed in our hearts.
I was the reason my mother lost her son.
I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms tightly around her small frame.
“I’m okay, mom,” I cried. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
She needed for me to get it together.
She needed me to put my mask on.
She squeezed me tightly, and I heard her whimper against my shoulder.
“You’re okay,” she whispered. “You are stronger than you know.”
I pulled away, lifted my hands to her face and wiped away her tears and forced the smile she needed to see.
“I am strong,” I assured.
She searched my eyes and for the first time I wished I had her eyes and not my dad’s maybe then I’d be more convincing. Finally, she nodded, leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
It took a while for her to leave my room, afraid I’d switch masks, but I kept it together long enough to convince her I just needed a break. I called Daniela in front of her, even put the call on speaker, so she could listen and be at ease, knowing I was trying to put one foot in front of the other. When she finally left me alone I showered, threw something on and twisted my hair into a top knot. I could still see the concern etched across her features when I went downstairs to say goodbye.
If she thought she’d succeed she probably would’ve tied me to the chair and not let me leave.
I met Daniela at the Dunkin Donuts on 86th street, ordered an iced coffee and pretended to listen as she rambled on about her birthday. Her birthday was Monday, but she wanted to celebrate tonight since it was Saturday night. One of the guys in Noah’s fraternity had a hook with Kettle Black in Bay Ridge and promised to get us in without I.D.’s.
“You’re going to come aren’t you?”
I didn’t want to.
I wanted to go back to bed but, that wasn’t an option with my mother suspiciously watching me—looking for signs I was more my father’s daughter then hers. So, I decided to keep my mask on and be the happy-go-lucky girl everyone thinks I have the ability to be.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” I promised, taking a sip of my coffee as I turned my head toward the window.
My eyes zeroed in on the Harley across the street and for a moment I assumed it was Mack’s. That guy was a permanent fixture in my life and has been camped out at my mother’s house for the last month. My mom brings him coffee in the morning before she goes to work.
Yeah, she does.
He even changed my stepfather’s tire the other day.
One big happy family.
“It’s going to be so much fun,” Daniela beamed. “Now, I have to figure out what to wear.”
My fake smile diminished as I continued to stare out the window and spotted Blackie walking out of the liquor store across the street. He straddled his bike and then his head turned and our eyes locked.
I saw him.
He saw me.
Another stolen moment to add to the story.
He flipped his sunglasses down and I knew even with the tinted glass over his eyes he was still watching me but then he turned his head and pretended like he never saw me.
Like I never existed.
I watched him peel out of the spot and speed away.
“What do you think?”
I think I lost my fucking mind.
I glanced back at Daniela.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, standing up. “You’re going to pick me up at nine right?”