When Reason Breaks (24 page)

“Don't let go. I feel a little dizzy,” she says and laughs.

“Well, that's typical when you experience what I like to call the Ultimate Tommy Tongue Twister,” he says.

“Don't be gross,” Elizabeth giggles. “You'll ruin the moment.”

“
Lo siento, querida
,” says Tommy. “I'll be quiet, and I won't let go. I promise.”

They hold each other gently; the tips of his fingers draw small circles on her back, and her hand strokes his chest. Elizabeth turns her head and sees rays of the setting sun stream through the living room window.

“I have to go,” she says.

“What? You just told me not to let go, so you're trapped here forever,” he says. He locks his legs behind her and tickles her with his hands.

Elizabeth squirms and laughs for a few moments. She kisses him on the lips and says, “I really do need to leave.”

Tommy brushes a thumb across her lips and kisses her again. Elizabeth picks up her jacket and bag and holds Tommy's hand as they walk to the front door. She turns and kisses him again.

“Talk to you later,” she says and then walks toward home.

Elizabeth stands outside her house for a while, looking at the front door like she's a traveler unsure if she's reached her destination. She hesitates because the conversation she plans to have with her mom will be their first real talk in months.

“Hello? Mom? Lily?” Elizabeth closes the door behind her. She unzips her coat, shoves her gloves into her pockets, and drops her bag by the coatrack.

Lily races around a corner and skids to a stop when she sees Elizabeth. Her mom is right behind Lily. Her eyes are puffy like she's been crying.

“Elizabeth!” Lily screams. She runs to her sister and hugs her. Her mom stares at Elizabeth and walks slowly toward her. She wraps her arms around Elizabeth's neck and holds her tight.

Elizabeth doesn't know why they're hugging her, but she doesn't say anything or pull away. She wraps an arm around her mom's waist and places her other hand on the top of Lily's head. She's holding her breath, and when she finally exhales, she begins to sob. They all hold each other tighter.

After a while, Elizabeth stops crying and begins to breathe normally. The three pull apart, and her mom wipes Elizabeth's face and kisses her on the cheek. Elizabeth stares at her mother with wide eyes. Her mother kisses her again and says, “We were so worried about you. Come on, take your coat off and let's sit down and talk.”

Elizabeth's mom helps her out of her coat and hangs it on a hook. She holds Elizabeth's hand and leads her into the living room. Lily trails behind them. Elizabeth and her mom sit on the couch and Lily hops onto a nearby chair. Elizabeth sits next to her mom but holds a pillow in front of her chest like a shield. Her mom reaches out and strokes the side of Elizabeth's head. She pulls her head slightly in the other direction. Her mother notices the subtle movement and pulls her hand back.

“Why were you so worried about me?” Elizabeth asks.

“Because of what happened this morning,” her mom said. “Ms. Gilbert called to see if you were okay, and I told her you never came home from detention. Of course, I panicked
and asked her why you wouldn't be okay. She told me what happened and she said you had left school hours ago.”

“I did,” Elizabeth says.

“Right, so when you didn't come home, I began to worry. After what you saw this morning … I can't even imagine seeing that girl lying there half-dead …”

“Her name's Emily,” Elizabeth says.

“Emily,” her mom repeats. “That poor girl … and her family.”

“Is she dead?” Elizabeth asks. She grasps the pillow tighter, her nails buried into the foam. “Did Ms. Gilbert say if she's alive or …”

“She's alive,” her mother says. Elizabeth releases her grip on the pillow. “Ms. Gilbert said she's still in the hospital, but she's alive. I was feeling so sorry for her family, and then you didn't come home, and I was so worried we would become that family. I had no idea where you were. I tried calling you on your cell phone.”

“You have my cell phone,” Elizabeth says.

“Yes, I remembered when it rang in my dresser drawer.”

Elizabeth and Lily look at each other and laugh.

“This isn't funny,” says their mom. “I was worried sick. We drove around town for a while …”

“For a while?” asks Lily. “It was like forever.” She rolls her eyes.

“What, did you have something better to do?” Elizabeth asks, teasing her sister.

“Would you two please stop? This is serious.”

“Sorry,” says Lily. As soon as her mom turns to continue talking, Lily sticks her tongue out at Elizabeth, who winks back.

“Anyway, we drove around, but I ran out of places to check,” says her mom. “I had no idea where to find you.” Her mom starts to cry. Elizabeth and Lily stop smirking.

“And what if you were hurt someplace, like Emily, and you needed my help, and I had no idea where to find you?” She pauses and wipes her eyes. “I'm your mom, and I should know where you hang out. What if you were hurt? What if you needed me? I couldn't find you, Elizabeth. I couldn't find you.”

“Mom, I'm not hurt,” says Elizabeth. She lowers her pillow-shield a little. “I'm sorry. I should have come straight home, but I needed to think.”

Her mom reaches out, squeezes Elizabeth's hand, and lets go. “You don't need to apologize, baby. I'm the one who's sorry. I've been a wreck since your father left. I know that.” She starts to cry again. “I wasn't a good enough wife, so I lost your father, and then I was a lousy mom, so I lost you, too.”

“I'm right here,” says Elizabeth. She sets the pillow aside and moves closer to her mom. She holds her hand. “You haven't lost me. I'm right here. You're not a lousy mom.”

“Things are going to change.” She wipes her eyes again and strokes Elizabeth's hair. Elizabeth doesn't move this time. “I want to know all about your friends and why you dye your hair and cut classes and punch people out.”

They all laugh.

“Really, I want to know why instead of yelling at you or turning my head and pretending like it's not happening.”

“Denial ain't just a river in Egypt,” says Lily.

They laugh again.

“Where did you hear that?” Elizabeth asks.

“School,” says Lily. “I can't remember who said it or why, but it sounded funny.”

“Anyway,” her mom continues. “I want to know. I want you to talk to me.”

“Okay,” says Elizabeth. “I'm going to try to be better, too …,” she says, hesitating. “And Mom? I was thinking about calling Dad tomorrow and seeing if he'll talk to me.”

“Of course he'll talk to you, baby. He loves you,” her mom says.

Elizabeth flinches at her words and shakes her head.

“He loves you, Elizabeth, like I do,” her mom says.

Elizabeth bows her head and continues to shake her head in disbelief.

“I love you, Elizabeth,” her mother says. She puts a finger under Elizabeth's chin and raises her head. “Look at me, sweetie. I love you so much, you have no idea. I'm sorry you haven't felt that. I'll say it a thousand times a day until you believe me.”

“I love you, too,” says Lily. She jumps off the chair and hops onto the couch behind Elizabeth. She leans into her sister. Tears stream down Elizabeth's face. Her mother brushes them away with her hands.

“Boy, we're a mess, huh?” her mom says.

Her mom's dark circles are there, as usual, and her eyes are rimmed red from crying, but her pale-green eyes radiate certainty and confidence.

“Hold on a second,” says Elizabeth. She stands and walks out of the room. She returns to the living room with her camera and sits between her mother and sister.

“Everyone squeeze together,” says Elizabeth.

“Whose is that?” asks her mother.

“It's from school.”

“Do they know you have it?”

Elizabeth stares at her. “Yes, Julia, I use the camera for the school newspaper. I didn't steal it.”

“That's great, but if you did steal it, we'd discuss it as a family.”

“Yeah, yeah, just move in closer,” says Elizabeth.

“You want to take a picture now? Oh, honey, we look awful.”

“No, we don't,” says Elizabeth. “We look beautiful. Tears and all. Come on. Move in close.”

The three squish together. Lily smiles wide and says an extended, “Cheeeeeese.” Elizabeth stretches out her arms and turns the camera toward them. When she's about to take the picture, her mom kisses Elizabeth on her forehead. Elizabeth closes her eyes and smiles.

Click.

Suddenly, Elizabeth's exhausted. Her mom and sister are beat, too. It's not that late, but they all decide to get into pajamas. After Lily changes clothes, she crawls into Elizabeth's bed.

“Hey, what are you doing?” asks Elizabeth as she brushes her hair by her dresser.

“Let's end the night with a slumber party,” says Lily. She pats the covers next to her. “Come on.”

Elizabeth smiles. “Fine. I won't kick you out.”

Her mom stands in the doorway to see what's going on.

Lily pats the bed again. “Come on, Mom, we're having a slumber party.”

Her mom looks at Elizabeth. “Come on,” says Elizabeth.

“All right,” her mom says. “Move over, Rover.”

Lily giggles and creates room for everyone. Elizabeth climbs in, followed by her mom. Lily jumps out of bed and returns with three stuffed animals, one for each of them. As they settle into bed, Elizabeth's mother softly sings a lullaby, like she used to do during thunderstorms. Tonight, though, everything is clear and calm. After a few minutes of listening to her mother's soothing song, Elizabeth, for the first time in over a year, falls into a deep, restful sleep.

Everything in Emily's hospital room is plastic with no sharp edges, and everything is monitored: blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, eating, going to the bathroom, medication. She takes her pills. They check her mouth to confirm she swallows them. Other things drip directly into her blood through the IV.

She's never alone.

She wants to be left alone.

They ask her countless questions.

She doesn't answer any of them.

They can't help her if she doesn't talk to them.

On day four, she starts to feel better physically, but she's angry and embarrassed. Her parents and brother are constant visitors. This doesn't help. A small group of interns marches
in. This doesn't help, either. Here, young doctors, this is what a suicide survivor looks like. Interesting, isn't it? Here are her charts, take a peek. Go ahead, take notes, but don't tap the glass. Let's not irritate her further.

One day, her parents are out of the room when a psychiatrist or psychologist or social worker comes in. Different person, same questions. This time, Emily answers a select few.

“What would I have done differently that day? I would've written DNR on my chest with a black permanent marker.”

“Do Not Resuscitate?” he asks, peering over his glasses.

“Good point. I would've written it out to prevent any misunderstanding,” Emily says. “And, what would I say to Ms. Diaz or Elizabeth if they were here right now? I'd say, ‘Fuck you.' ”

“But if they didn't find you, you'd be dead.”

“Exactly.”

The doctor scribbles furiously. Emily's comments win her more days in the hospital. This is fine with her. The alternative is going home, and once she goes home, they may want her to go back to school. No way.

On day six, Emily feels better overall. She's hydrated, medicated, and well nourished. The sight of her parents doesn't trigger a desire to puke or throw something.

Pop reads to her from the newspaper at first, but then switches to a lighthearted novel since the news is always tragic. She doesn't tell him that she's already read the book.

Mamá's more clearheaded than usual. She pushes her daughter's hair away from her face like she did when Emily
was young and didn't feel well. Mamá was never very affectionate, but Emily remembers this—how Mamá pushed aside her hair and checked for a fever with the back of her hand.

Austin entertains her with his college stories and promises to visit on the weekends more often. He tells her Kevin came to the hospital, but the nurses said immediate family only. He delivers a postcard from Kevin to Emily that says, “Wish you were here.” Austin doesn't ever mention Abby and bolts out of the room when he feels like crying.

The monster inside her is weakened, but not dead. The medical team tries to pull it out of her, but she doesn't cooperate. She won't talk. She answers some of their questions, but she won't open up.

Still, they say talking even a little is progress. They push her a bit. They ask her to help create a safety plan and sign a no-suicide contract.

She won't make any promises.

This means more days in the hospital.

Ms. Diaz stands in front of her period one class for the first time since Emily's attempted suicide and her own five-day medical leave. She can't ignore what happened, but she doesn't want to dwell on it, either. The students sit in their seats silently and wait for her to say something.

Kevin's face is ashen. Tommy stares at the floor and Abby and Sarah turn away whenever Ms. Diaz glances at them. Elizabeth sits up straight and looks directly at her teacher.

“Hi,” Ms. Diaz says finally.

The students laugh a little.

“A while ago, a student asked me why I became a teacher,” Ms. Diaz says and glances at Elizabeth. “I said I teach because I love literature. She pointed out I didn't say anything about my students. What happened with Emily made me realize
I do love my students. And since I have the news editor in the room, let me clarify that I do not love any of you in an inappropriate way. Got that, Mr. Bowles?”