“I do.”
“I’m scared for you, Audrey, now that you’ve chosen Rad over Duck. Every time I’ve followed my heart, it’s turned out badly for me. When I met your dad, he swept me off my feet.” A soft look came over her face. “I wanted to be a star. I was heading in that direction. But I fell madly in love with a boy, and I lost my head. I was seeing someone else at the time, someone I cared about, but I was still myself, Audrey. He didn’t affect me the way your dad did. At the time, I couldn’t see that the crazy, passionate love I had for your father would lead me here to this life—this slow death.” She motioned around her. “Before I knew it, I was pregnant—at twenty-two!” She shook her head. “That’s too young—not much older than you are now. This isn’t easy for me to say. It’s not that I didn’t want you; I just wish it happened ten years later. I just wanted those ten years for myself, to find out how far I could have gone.” She closed her eyes, as though it pained her to say these words to me. “I don’t want you to lose that time—that precious, precious time. If you have to be with someone at all, then be with someone who makes you feel like you are still in control. Someone like Duck. Because sooner or later, all kinds of love—crazy love, wild love—fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable—safe. So why not start there if that’s where you’ll end up?”
“Mum, I’m not you. I’m never going to be you. You don’t have to worry.”
She sighed, peeling off her gloves and tossing them on the ground. “Come with me, Audrey. There’s something I want to show you.”
I followed her into the house, up the stairs, and into the spare room where we kept our odds and ends. She walked over to the bureau in the far corner and pulled open the bottom drawer, crammed full of junk. Lifting out a black-and-white striped hat box, she put it on top of my old writing desk and took out the contents. There were pictures of young couples, radiant and glowing, basking in the sun. My mother picked up one of the photos and handed it to me. A boy in a leather jacket with a cigarette dangling from his mouth stared at me with dark, brooding eyes.
“Who’s that, Mum?” I asked, thinking it must have been an old friend or ex-boyfriend.
“That’s your dad, Audrey.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s Dad?”
She nodded. “He was going to be a writer. Did you know that?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head slowly. As far as I knew, my dad worked in an office. I never thought he had aspirations to do anything else. I guess that was ignorant of me.
“You should have seen him back then,” she said, looking down at the photo. Her eyes were dreamy again. I wondered when she had stopped looking at him like that. “I would have done anything for him. Hell, I would have followed him right off a cliff. That’s what boys can do, Audrey; that’s the power they can wield over you. It’s like being under a spell.”
If she was right, it was already too late. I felt that for Rad, that mysterious pull. I had from the moment my eyes fell into his. I couldn’t stop it any more than she could all those years ago.
“But you can break the spell, Audrey, before it takes you over completely,” she said, as if reading my mind. “I am standing here now, where you will be some day, and I don’t want you to have the same regrets that I do. I don’t want you throwing your potential away on some boy. I made that mistake—I squandered my youth and my talent—but you don’t have to. It’s not too late for you.” Her eyes were so sad, so desperate. I wanted to tell her not to worry, that Rad was different and everything would work out fine.
“I won’t let it happen to me, Mum. I’ll be careful; I promise.”
“Oh, Audrey, it’s already happened. I saw it that night at Ana’s funeral. The way you looked at Rad. I saw myself all over again. I’m not stupid. I know what I’m up against trying to convince you. But I’m on your side, even if it seems that I’m the enemy.” Her voice broke. “I’m your mother, Audrey, and I’m on your side.”
Later that night, Lucy and I were awakened by the sound of screeching tires, followed by a blaring horn. I raced to the front window with Lucy following closely behind. We peeked out from behind the curtains. “Oh shit,” said Lucy. “It’s Duck.” He was standing in the street outside, with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.
“Audrey!” he screamed as he began ranting away in a torrent of verbal abuse while shouting my name repeatedly, at the top of his lungs. I could see lights down our street coming on as neighbors woke up to the commotion.
“I have to go out and speak to him,” I said, stepping away from the window.
“No. No way, Audrey, stay in here. I’m calling the police.”
“But Lucy,” I said dumbly, “it’s Duck.”
She grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Audrey, I’m not letting you go outside. Stay here.” She disappeared into her bedroom and came back moments later with her phone in her hand. She was about to dial when I stopped her.
“Lucy, someone has already called the cops,” I said, as a police vehicle came down our street, lights flashing. They parked near Duck’s car, and two officers got out. He turned to face them, his stance aggressive. One officer tried to reason quietly with him, but it only made him more hysterical. The other one reacted swiftly, grabbing the bottle from Duck’s hand and pinning his arms behind his back. After a short struggle, he managed to break away and ran toward our window, where Lucy and I stood watching the nightmare unfold. He stood there, eyes wild and animal-like, looking straight into mine. “Oh God, what is he doing?” said Lucy as he lifted up his shirt. To our horror, we saw deep red cuts all across his bare chest.
“This is what you did to me, Audrey! Do you hear me, Audrey? I should have left you at the bottom of that lake, you fucking bitch!” he screamed, his voice coarse and broken. At that moment, the two officers pounced on Duck, and he was wrestled to the ground and handcuffed.
Once he was bundled into the back of the police car, one of the officers knocked on the front door. I opened it. “Do you know that man?” he asked.
“He was my boyfriend. We just broke up.”
“Has he hurt you in any way?”
I shook my head. “No, never.”
Next morning, Lucy and I were sitting at our kitchen table after being up all night. “I don’t think I’m going to any of my classes today,” she said, glancing at the clock.
“I’m going to skip work too,” I said miserably, taking a sip of my tea.
Lucy’s eyes were red from crying, and she had dark rings of fatigue under her eyes. “I still can’t believe that was Duck out there last night.” She shook her head. “How could he do that to you?”