“It was lucky they came back when they did.” He shuddered, as if trying to shake off the memory. “That wasn’t her first attempt, you know. As horrible as it sounds, I think everyone assumed it would only be a matter of time with her.”
“Yeah.” It was common knowledge that Ana was reckless with her life, the kind of girl who would play Russian roulette with a loaded gun. It made her seem almost immortal, the casual way she flirted with death.
Rad took my hand and held it in his, tracing my knuckles with his thumb.
“After what happened with Ana, I vowed never to let myself care about anything again. It was just too damn hard.” He reached out and gently pulled my chin around to face him. “But then I met you. I didn’t want to care about you, but I couldn’t help myself.” He smiled, his hand cupping the side of my face. I reached up and put my hand over his. “Sometimes it scares me, though, when I look at you. I see that same expression on your face that I used to see on Ana’s.” He ran his thumb softly across my lips. “I don’t want to fall in love with another sad girl.”
Candela woke up the following Sunday. Lucy and I went straight to the hospital when we heard.
She was sitting up in bed, pushing morosely at a tub of red Jell-O. “Hey,” I said, sitting down on the side of the bed. She looked up at me.
“It’s been awhile,” she said and broke into a grin. A flood of tears blurred my eyes as I threw my arms around her.
“I remember bits and pieces,” said Candela, when we asked her if she was aware of anything during her coma. Her mother and Eve had just left, and Lucy and I were now keeping her company. “Audrey, you were reading some book to me, I think. And Lucy was talking about Freddy—something to do with The War of the Worlds.”
Lucy’s cheeks turned pink. “You heard that?”
“Yeah, what’s that about?”
“Freddy plays the Jeff Wayne album whenever he’s annoyed with her,” I explained.
Candela snorted. “Seriously?”
Lucy nodded. “He puts it on full blast.”
Candela’s expression suddenly turned serious as she locked Lucy’s gaze in hers. “Ullaaaa,” she uttered in a low dramatic voice.
“Ullaaaa,” I echoed.
Lucy glared at us for a moment, but she must have seen the funny side because we all broke into laughter. It felt like old times again.
“God, I would sell my soul for a cigarette,” Candela said with a sigh.
“So what happens next?” asked Lucy.
Candela suddenly turned serious. “I think this was a wake-up call. I mean, you can’t get more of a slap in the face than a near-death experience.” She gave us a meaningful look. “I’ve talked to Mum, and we’ve decided on rehab. I’m checking in tomorrow.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I said kissing her on the forehead. “We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you both too,” she admitted. “I wanted to call, but, you know, I was so messed up. I didn’t want you to see me the way I was.”
“You can always call us,” said Lucy. “We’re your family.”
Candela turned her head away, and I could see she was trying to blink back tears. “I’ve done things, you know,” her voice wavered. “Things I’m not proud of.”
“Candela,” I said, putting my hand on her arm, “who hasn’t?”
She wiped her eyes with the corner of her bedsheet, then turned to face us, smiling brightly. “Lucy, most probably.”
Twenty-two
I spent Christmas Eve at my parent’s place and woke up the next day to the sound of carols drifting through my window from our neighbors’ house. They played the same Michael Bublé soundtrack every single year. I glanced at my phone and realized with a shock that it was almost noon.
I slipped into my favorite sundress, brushed my teeth, and ran a comb through my hair. When I got downstairs, I could see my parents were already setting up Christmas lunch. It was a tradition we had for as long as I could remember. “Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked.
Dad was clutching a stack of placemats, and he looked up from the table and beamed at me. “Good morning, beautiful. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, Dad.” He drew me into a bear hug and kissed me lightly on the forehead.
I wandered into the kitchen where Mum was checking on the turkey. “Merry Christmas, Mum,” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Do you need me to help out with anything?”
“I think I have it under control,” she said with a smile. She turned and looked at me, her gaze traveling down the length of my dress. “Do you want to put something else on?”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
She sighed. “It’s a little plain for Christmas lunch, don’t you think? How about that nice dress I got you, the dark green one with the buttons down the front?”
“I’m happy with the dress I’m wearing,” I said, a little tightly. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t let my mother get to me today. Besides, it was only lunch, and then I was free to meet up with Rad later in the day. I was looking forward to spending our first Christmas together.
“We have guests coming,” she said, pulling on her oven mitts.
“We do?”
The doorbell rang.
“Can you get the door, Audrey? I have to deal with this turkey.”
“Sure.” I made my way to the front door and opened it, a ready smile painted on my face.
“Hi, darling.” It was Zoe and Duck.
My smile froze. “Zoe,” my voice strangled. “Duck.”
“Hey, Audrey,” said Duck. “It’s good to see you.” He looked like he had lost a lot of weight, and there were dark circles under his eyes. I felt a stab of guilt when I thought of how quickly I had moved on with Rad.
Zoe pulled me into a quick embrace. Duck stuck out his hand as I leaned in for a hug, my nose bumping awkwardly against his ear. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what they were doing here, when the realization struck me. This was my mother’s doing. She had invited them here. A sick feeling gripped my stomach.
“I didn’t know you were back from your trip.”
“We just got back a few days ago. Didn’t your mother tell you?” Zoe gave me a curious look.
I opened my mouth to respond when I heard Mum come up behind me. “Zoe, Duck!” she beamed, kissing Zoe on the cheek and cupping her hands affectionately around Duck’s face. “Look how tanned you are! You’re such a handsome boy.” She linked her arm through his. “Come inside; lunch is almost ready.”
Dad was coming down the stairs, just as we got to the dining room. “Perfect timing! What would you like to drink? Beer? Champagne? I just opened a bottle.”
“Champagne sounds wonderful,” said Zoe.
Dad disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later with champagne glasses and a bottle of Mo?t.
“Mum, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied.
I headed to the kitchen, with Mum in tow.
“What the hell, Mum?” I hissed, when I pulled the kitchen door shut behind us.
She looked nonplussed. “What’s the problem, Audrey?”