Just Breathe Again (4 page)

  Still standing outside the bathroom, and once again banging on the door to speed Lydia up, Jeannie had lost her patience with her slowness.

  “I will be in the car and your brother is sitting here waiting to go to the bathroom. Please, for the love of God, hurry. If you aren’t out here in two minutes, I’m leaving,” she yelled.

  Jeannie didn’t realize as she was yelling, Lydia’s head pounded in pain, making her dizzy and sick to her stomach. She didn’t realize while she yelled for her to come to the car, Lydia rummaged through the medicine cabinet for some type of pain reliever. She had to find something to dull the torment. Whatever they gave her last year, worked for a long time, until the prescription ran out. Now, nothing dulled the horrific pain that seemed to come in the morning and ravage her body the rest of the day. Quickly, she rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found an expired bottle of generic ibuprofen. They weren’t that expired, and any pain medication was better than nothing. She took four, cupping her hand under the faucet to get a sip of water. The pain still throbbed in her head as she stood up straight and examined how bad she looked in the full-length mirror. Her eyes were now dark underneath and her skin didn’t look right. She even gave up layering on gobs of makeup to cover up the fact she looked dreadful. She just didn’t care anymore. Lydia used to have rosy cheeks, big brown eyes, and flawless skin. She didn’t see that anymore when she looked in the mirror and she wondered why her mom hadn’t noticed.

  Jeannie had been consumed with trying to keep them afloat for the past year; she didn’t notice her daughter suffering quietly. If she knew, she would’ve taken her to the doctor at once. Lydia hid her pain pretty well for the longest time. Her pain was becoming impossible to hide anymore.

   The horn tooted outside the window making Lydia jump and grab her head. Any fast movement made her head hurt worse.

  “My God, Mom,” she yelled, and turned off the bathroom light. She tried to move as fast as her body would let her out the door. The last thing they needed was Jeannie unemployed or, they would be in a tent. Her little brother, Michael sat on the couch waiting to use the restroom.

  Lydia noticed Michael squirming. “Hi Michael, I’m sorry I took so long.”

  He didn’t say a word, just ran to the bathroom with a pained look on his face. Lydia grabbed her backpack hoisting the heavy bag over her shoulder, grimacing in pain and steadying herself from the spinning.

  Finally, making her way to the car, Lydia was ready to go. They had to wait for Michael, and taking more time would put her mom farther behind, and angrier. He finished in a flash, ran down the steps, jumped in the car, and buckled up his seat belt.

  As she had been doing most mornings, Jeannie peeled out of the driveway, kicking up the gravel. “I can’t do this anymore. From now on I’m leaving you, and you can stay home or get a ride from someone else.” She backed up in the yard and nearly ran over the Blessed Virgin Mary statue placed in the weed covered circle. The one thing they had left from their old house. The Mary statue came with them to the trailer park like a beacon of hope, no matter what happened. 

  “Mom, don’t run over Mary,” said Michael. He remembered from the earlier mornings, he had to remind her. Jeannie slammed on the brakes and Lydia’s head started throbbing again as her head jerked and hit the back of the seat. 

  “Lydia, look at me. Are you okay?” she asked. Jeannie put the car in drive, stepped on the gas, and glanced at her daughter. Lydia’s pained expression didn’t hit her till the second when they were in the car and she took a long look. She was always statuesque, in shape, and now she was thin and pale. The ailing appearance on Lydia’s face had to be the migraines; she had to make her a doctor’s appointment.

  The traffic started to get busy. Jeannie could weave herself in and out of the busy freeway like a NASCAR driver to get to where she needed to be. Lydia stared out the dirty car window and Jeannie looked at her again to see if she could see any sign of something serious. She wasn’t wearing makeup and her eyes looked extremely tired and dark underneath. She had no idea what she could be looking for, but a mom can sense things. At least she used to be able to. Every time one of her children were sick, Jeannie felt something inside telling her things weren’t right. She wasn’t feeling much of anything in the past couple of years. 

  “Lydia, do you want to talk to me about something? Remember you can tell me anything. You know this, don’t you?” asked Jeannie, as she tried to look at her daughter and drive.

  Lydia faced out the half open window with her eyes closed. The cool, morning air felt soothing on her face.

   Squeezing the spot between her eyes with her fingers, she spoke up. “I’m fine, Mom. My migraines are acting up again, and I’m just tired.” Jeannie noticed her fingernail polish was chipped and that wasn’t like her girl. Lydia prided herself in having perfect nails all the time. Even now in their current financial situation, Lydia would make sure they were painted and filed perfectly.

  “Join the club, sweetie. I’m exhausted like I haven’t slept for a week. You look worn out. Are you eating? You have exams next week, don’t you?”

  Listening to his rap music Michael yelled with his earphones in his ears. “Hey Lydia, I ate your macaroni and cheese this morning for breakfast.”

  “Michael, take those out of your ears. You’re screaming,” said Jeannie, once again taking her eyes off the road.

  Lydia kept her eyes shut so the pain wouldn’t go through her head again. “That’s alright, buddy.” Lydia loved her brother, and whatever he did, she didn’t care.

  “Lydia, remember I work tonight so you have to get Michael fed and ready for bed. Please help him with his homework, and Michael, listen to your sister. Do you have track practice?” asked Jeannie.

  “Lydia? Did you hear me?” her mom asked.

  “Yes, Mom. I can hear you fine. No, Coach Barnes cancelled track tonight.” Lydia lied. She didn’t have the strength to practice. She no longer had the strength to run after school or do much of anything. Walking had become a struggle let alone sprinting around the track. Last year, the migraines didn’t do this to her. She worked through them and still showed up for track practice breaking records. This time, the headaches were worse and the dizziness was becoming unbearable. Coach Barnes should be calling her mom any day to tell her she had missed several practices.

  “Please answer me when I’m talking. You need to get sleep and not be on your phone with Steven all evening. The phone may need to stay with me at night,” she said. Jeannie had kept their phones on because Vince had put them on such a great plan, she didn’t want to lose the deal they had. Of all her bills, the cell phone was one she made sure was paid every month. 

  “Mom, stop. I’m not a baby anymore.”

  Pulling the worn out Jeep up to the parent drop off, Jeannie saw Steven patiently waiting for Lydia by the front door. Watching her daughter smile a bit, Jeannie had hoped the day looked better for Lydia since she saw Steven. They had been best buddies since they were both in diapers, and they remained best friends. Steven’s parents built a house down the road and Steven and Lydia became inseparable. He joined in as one of the girls when Lydia had slumber parties, even during the facials and nail painting. When they were young most of their days were spent outside. This was when Lydia was full of color, mosquito bites, and smiles. They would play make believe games in the summer until the sun went down. They were so young and full of innocence. Jeannie remembers the sound of their laughter and screaming when they were together. When Lydia had to move out of their neighborhood, saying goodbye was heartbreaking, but Jeannie was thankful they stayed at their school together.

  Steven hurriedly walked up to the Jeep, opened the door, and pulled his best friend into a hug. He had been on vacation for the past two weeks and Lydia pressed a kiss to his cheek. To Lydia, no one was more important than Steven Lynch.     

  “Steven, I’m so glad you’re back. Lydia missed you so much,” said Jeannie, through the rolled down passenger window.

  “Beauties. I missed her too. Can you imagine two weeks in Florida with Marge and Stan? It was polyester, sweat stains, and piña coladas. I thought about throwing myself in the ocean by Tuesday of last week,” he said. There wasn’t a day Steven didn’t dress to kill in designer clothes and expensive shoes. He lived and breathed fashion and looked perfectly put together every day. He was gorgeous to say the least. Tall, muscular, with blond hair and green eyes, he was a catch. The only thing was, he didn’t like girls. Not one to shy away from his sexuality, Steven made it known he wasn’t someone you bullied or teased. He was nobody’s butt of a joke and had gotten into fights defending what he was. Jeannie sat and listened to Steven and Lydia as she waited to pull out of the school drive.

  “I have to say, you look rather washed out, honey. What’s going on with you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m fine, Steven.”

   “Sorry, Jeannie, I’m coming over tonight and rescuing Lydia from white trash hell you are forcing her to live in. The sardine can is loaded with black mold and God knows what else. Look, you wore sweats to school. Haven’t I taught you better?” Steven’s gaze went to Lydia’s wardrobe. He loved to tease them about where they lived and he was the only one who could get away with it.

  “My pants are falling off and these are all I have,” said Lydia. That was the first time Jeannie had heard anything about her clothes not fitting.

   “If you were a guy, I would love to hear you say that. I will take you shopping this week. I can’t have this. This is just… no. Jeannie, have you stopped feeding this poor girl? I’ve been gone for two weeks and she looks like you have locked her in a closet,” he laughed.

  Lydia laughed too and Jeannie noticed she grimaced a little.  

  “Steven, would you bring her home after school? I won’t be done in time to get her.”

  “God yes, I don’t want her walking home in those pink sweat pants. God knows what might pick her up in the trailer park and become her husband before you get home.” 

   
Lydia grabbed her backpack and took out her water bottle. “I’m glad my pain is humorous to you.” She had an awful taste in her mouth and took a swig of her water before heading inside.

  “I want you to burn those pink sweatpants tonight. Though, I do have a sweater the same shade,” he smiled.

  “I’m sure you do, and a matching thong to go with it,” said Lydia.

  “You’re right again. I do have a pink thong. I’m wearing it now. Want me to show you?”

  “Want me to puke, again?”

  Jeannie became more concerned by the second. “Puke? When did you puke, Lydia? You haven’t mentioned puking.”

  Lydia didn’t answer.

   “Good God, am I going to need hazmat to hose me down?” asked Steven, narrowing a brow at Jeannie.

  “I don’t know, Steven. This is the first I’ve heard she feels so bad she puked,” said Jeannie. She had to get to work and the line was beginning to finally move in the drop off.

  “I’m fine, you two. Stop talking like I’m not here. I’m okay.”

  “Listen, you two are entertaining. I have to get Michael to school and I’m already late for work.  Lydia, I love you and try to have a good day, baby. We’ll talk more tonight and you may be going to the doctor tomorrow. Steven, keep an eye on her. I will see you tonight.” Jeannie had to get moving as the line out of the school creeped along.

Chapter 2

T
hat morning, almost two years to the day when her husband died, Jeannie Franklin had no idea what lay in front of her later on. Pulling out of the school parking lot, she peeked at herself in the rearview mirror trying to pat down her messy hair with no luck. Jeannie didn’t look like the same woman she did two years ago. Seeing her reflection, she cringed and tried to not look in the mirror more than a couple of times a day. She had fallen apart both physically and mentally and feared she may not ever look good again. Jeannie needed some major work, but that of course was out of the question. She couldn’t afford a decent haircut, let alone major work.  What she could afford at that moment was coffee, and stat. Coffee could make everything better and put her in a better mood after the crazy morning. The drive-thru at Starbucks called her name, as it did every day driving past. Grabbing a Starbucks was a luxury she rarely indulged in, but an Americano was what she needed. She scrounged enough change lying around the Jeep to come up with enough money. She was already late, what was a few more minutes?

  The past two years were hell on her looks, her body, her mind, and her life in general. Her once fit-self was a distant memory. Ever since the accident and losing Vince, her looks and body had taken a back seat. Working out or looking good, no longer mattered to her like it once did. The one person she wanted to look good for wouldn’t be there to see her. Now she looked like one of those women who fit in the trailer park: worn out, washed out, and hopeless.    

   Since she gained weight over the last year and had no money, she bought her clothes at the thrift store. A couple of years ago Jeannie would have not stepped foot in a second hand store, let alone buy anything. Now, she had no choice and nothing looked good on her since she gained weight. Her job helped to put on the extra pounds and added to her self-consciousness. Every week they had food brought in to the office. She couldn’t resist the various high calorie snacks calling her name. Late night eating at the restaurant when she worked, didn’t help either. They ate unhealthy food at home because they had to eat cheap. Dinner used to be either organic or vegetarian, but now it was from a drive-thru window or a box.