She had never been a cautious driver, even after she got sober. At the moment, fear flooded her body, an engine given too much gas. Rachel knew what the fuel was, knew who had caused this adrenaline to invade her blood. Rachel’s hands on the steering wheel were tight fists, white from clenching. She only released one hand on straight stretches of the highway, to wipe at the sweat collecting on her upper lip.
Athena and Rachel had done a fourth step every single time Laverna returned a letter. Each inventory had been meticulous, but Rachel never received closure. She would never admit this to Athena. Rachel was willing to admit her own faults, where she had acted out of fear or selfishness. Secretly, she held on to the belief that Laverna was responsible. Laverna loved only money and power. When her mother attempted to trust men, she got bit every single time. Rachel was willing to admit to Athena that she had pierced her mother’s skin whenever the opportunity presented itself, whenever Laverna got too close. Laverna had given up before Rachel was old enough for a bra, and that was not what mothers were supposed to do.
“Your mother did the best she could with what she had,” Athena said, after every fourth step. “Your mother is just a person, with flaws of her own.”
Rachel would nod, and stare at the unopened envelope in her garbage can.
As she drove toward Ellis, Rachel took deep breaths and concentrated on the worst stories she had heard at meetings. Rachel had been hell-bent on destroying herself, and she had mostly avoided collateral damage. She had never killed a family of four while drunk driving, had never left a baby to freeze to death in a car while drinking at a bar in the middle of winter. She was a relatively good person, had only broken hearts and occasionally the law.
* * *
The nurse at the front desk waved Rachel silently through; Laverna was the only emergency at four o’clock in the morning on a weeknight.
Laverna was still in the emergency room. Rachel stood outside the curtain and listened to Red Mabel. She could see her thick black boots, the laces untied and the tongues bulged out. Red Mabel had huge, perpetually swelling feet.
She listened as Red Mabel plotted her revenge on all the Clinkenbeards, even the infants. Chain saw attacks, poisonings, arson. Rachel could not hear her mother respond.
Rachel finally gathered enough courage to step past the curtain, and saw why. Laverna was asleep. Red Mabel held a chunk of Laverna’s hair and petted it softly.
When she finally noticed Rachel, Red Mabel stumbled back and almost knocked over a crash cart.
“You,” said Red Mabel.
“Yes,” said Rachel.
“I told you I never wanted to see you again. I warned you what would happen.” Red Mabel crossed her mighty arms, green work shirtsleeves stained with the blood of Laverna or something poached, filthy white socks exposed as she stood on the shell of her boots to seem taller.
“I’m not scared,” said Rachel, hoping that Red Mabel could not sniff out this lie. “I have a right to be here.”
“You have some nerve,” declared Red Mabel. “I saved her life.” Red Mabel grunted and stepped forward to pull the sheet down around Laverna’s chest. Rachel saw her mother’s arms thickly bandaged, fingers lost in enormous mittens of gauze.
“Where’s the doctor?”
“Good question,” said Red Mabel. “He went to go get something for her pain. That was half an hour ago.”
“Thank you,” said Rachel. “Thank you for being here.” She sat down on a metal folding chair. Despite the sharp odor of freshly waxed floors, she could smell the sawdust that covered Red Mabel’s pants.
“The only reason I’m not choking you is because the doctor gave me a sedative.”
“He gave you a sedative?” Rachel was incredulous. “And he didn’t give my mom any painkillers?”
“Triage,” she said. “That’s what he called it.”
“Can we have a truce? Just for now?”
“Let me think about it,” said Red Mabel.
They both stared at Laverna, who was still sleeping.
“What did they give you?”
“Valium,” said Red Mabel. “Twice the usual dose,” she added proudly.
“How is she?”
“They think the bird shot shattered her arms. Broken radius, or radial, or some shit. A chip in her elbow bone. She’s lucky.”
“Oh,” said Rachel.
“All right,” said Red Mabel. “I thought about it. A truce for tonight. That’s fine. I need a cigarette.”
Outside the hospital, Red Mabel smoked in silence and rocked back and forth on her boots. In nine years, she hadn’t aged, but her face was blank in the floodlights of the parking lot. Rachel was thankful for the double dose of Valium.
“How have you been?”
“You ain’t got no right to ask me that,” said Red Mabel.
“Fine,” stated Rachel. “How long is she going to be in the hospital?”
“Dunno,” said Red Mabel. “She was conscious in the ambulance. She was talking, and she knew her arms were shot to shit.” The nurse from the front desk came through the sliding doors of the lobby and sat on a curb, lit a cigarette of her own. “You’re gonna need to step up. Somebody has to cover, and you’re the only one with experience. Your mother made the decision.”
“I’m an alcoholic,” proclaimed Rachel.
“Who isn’t?”