White Lines III (15 page)

“So, why couldn't you come to me now?” Marisol asked. “I know what I said years ago … it was wrong. But I have always loved you, Sunny.”

Sunny had never doubted that. “I know,” she said. “I love you, too. But our relationship changed once I became old enough to make my own decisions. I started being responsible for everything. It's never been just about me and what I need or what I want. I can't turn to anybody because I'm the one everybody depends on.”

“You could come to me,” Jada offered. “Sunny, we've been friends for so many years. You are my best friend. And I've been down that road myself. So why not come to me when you felt yourself slipping?”

Sunny sighed. “Do you come to me every time you feel the urge to get high again?”

Jada wanted to say that she would, but it was not true. Over the years she had fought each day for her sobriety, and it had not always been an easy battle. She usually waged those wars alone, and understood the point that Sunny was making.

“You still want to get high sometimes?” Sheldon asked, his eyes on his mother.

Jada shrugged. “Not really.” She looked at Sunny, and thought her friend could use a lifeline right now. She decided to be honest. “Sometimes I do. Being addicted to something is like going to war every day with the same enemy. So when things get bad and I feel stressed, yes. Sometimes I do have to fight the urge to get high again.” She looked at Sunny. “But I took my rehab seriously, and I use the tools they gave me to stay sober.”

Sunny lit a cigarette, a nasty habit she'd resumed while locked up in Mexico. “Well, rehab didn't work for me. Clearly.”

“You could have called me,” Jada said. She walked to the nearby kitchen. Filled a plastic cup halfway with tap water, and brought it to Sunny to use as an ashtray. “Why didn't you?”

Sunny blew out some smoke, which Ava discreetly fanned away.

“Because you have your own life, Jada.”

“That's bullshit, Sunny. You're family to me.”

“You have Sheldon and his problems,” Sunny reminded her. “And where's Born?” Sunny wasn't saying it meanly. Still, the poignancy of the question struck a lull in the conversation as booming as a bell tolling in the center of the room. “I wasn't gonna burden you with my problems on top of everything else.” Sunny took another drag.

“What about me?”

All heads turned toward the speaker, and Sunny slowly doused her cigarette inside of Jada's makeshift ashtray.

Mercedes watched her mother through narrowed eyes. “Why couldn't you talk to me?”

Sunny felt her heart shatter in a thousand pieces.

“You always say that I can come and talk to you about any and everything. So why should I come to you if you won't come to me and tell me the truth?”

“Mercedes, you don't understand.” Sunny shook her head.

“You're right. I don't.” Mercedes shook her head as well, almost mockingly. “I don't understand why I have to go to school with kids who already think they're better than me because of who their parents are. My dad is dead, and my mom is all over the magazines that all the boys jerk off to at home.”

Ava shifted uneasily in her seat.

“Then you go and get arrested with cocaine. And I have to go to school and hear all of the kids call me ‘crack baby' in the hallways.”

“You are not a crack baby!” Sunny said, defensively. She realized too late that Sheldon was paying close attention, and she shot a look in his direction. “I'm saying that those kids don't know what they're talking about, Mercedes.”

“Now I'm the school joke. Last day of school and all the kids go home laughing at the girl whose mother got arrested for trying to sneak coke on a plane home from Mexico.”

“Mercedes…” Sunny's voice was pleading, though the right words escaped her once again. “I don't know what to say to you.”

“Tell me why you did it. Why did you do it, Mommy?” Mercedes was crying, though doing her best to keep a brave face.

Sunny looked at her daughter for a long time. “Baby girl, there is no answer I can give you that will be enough.”

Mercedes wasn't satisfied with that. “What happened to Malcolm?” she asked. “Why wasn't he doing the perp walk with you at the airport?”

Sunny was tempted to ask her thirteen-year-old daughter what the hell she knew about a perp walk.

Mercedes didn't leave time for Sunny's questions. She had enough of her own. “Does Malcolm get high, too?”

Sunny shook her head. “No, he doesn't. Malcolm had nothing to do with what happened in Mexico.” In that moment, for the first time, Sunny realized how true that sentence was. None of what happened there had been anyone's fault but her own. The cocaine, the dead man, the arrest, their breakup. It had all been Sunny's own doing. The gravity of it hit her for the first time.

Mercedes looked at Sunny as if seeing a stranger, or a distant relative. Sunny was usually all glammed up. But today she looked worn down. Her hair was a mess, and she wore no makeup. Her nails were chewed down to the gristle, and she looked sick. Mercedes wasn't used to seeing her mother this way. This was not the Sunny she had grown up in the glow of. Mercedes wanted her mother back, the old Sunny. She cleared her throat, and reminded all the adults in the room that she was Sunny Cruz's and Dorian Douglas's daughter, and wise beyond her years.

“Aunt Jada,” she said. “The reason I wanted Sheldon to be here for this conversation is because he needed to hear all this as much as I did. Lately, Sheldon's been giving you a hard time about the drugs you used to use. He found out that you got high, and he can't seem to let it go. Somebody told him that your drug use is the reason he has a hard time behaving in school. So now he uses it as an excuse.”

“I do not.”

“Shut up, yes you do!” Mercedes was tired of everybody bullshitting. The time had come for some truth telling. “You use it as an excuse for all the dumb stuff you do.” She looked at Jada again. “It's all because he's mad. He's mad and he can't forgive you for getting high. So I told him that my mom got high, too. But Sheldon likes to pretend that he's the only one who ever had to deal with a parent who was addicted to something.” Mercedes looked at him now. “So now you see. My mother's still using cocaine. At least yours quit like she said she would.”

“Mercedes!” Marisol chastened.

Mercedes shrugged her off and continued. “Sheldon, I understand how you feel. In fact, I feel worse because I can't even go home because of the cameramen hiding outside. At least the whole world is not talking about your mother right now.” She looked at her mother. “But even though they talk about her, I still love her.” She watched Sunny's hands tremble with emotion.

“You embarrassed me, Mommy. I'm so mad at you for using drugs again.” Mercedes fought the tears back. “But I love you. And I can forgive you as long as you get help. If you go into rehab that will make me so happy.”

Sheldon stared at the floor. He felt convicted. He loved his mother, and he knew that she was miserable since Born was gone. Sheldon couldn't really understand why he did the things that he did. What he knew for sure was that he was getting his way, and he loved that. He was also enjoying having his mother all to himself. He didn't have to share her attention and affection. Sheldon envied Ethan, because Ethan had his dad. Sheldon had no memory of his. And he was torn somewhere between wishing that Born was his dad, too, and hating him because he wasn't. But as he watched Mercedes pleading with her mother to get help, Sheldon felt terrible for the way he had treated Jada. Jada had proven more than once that she would do anything for Sheldon. He sat there watching the exchange between Mercedes and Sunny, and felt guilty that he hadn't been more cooperative lately.

“Mercedes,” Sunny pleaded. “I don't need rehab, baby.”

Mercedes shook her head, defiantly. “That's the only way we can move on. It's rehab or nothing. Either go get clean once and for all or I want to go and live with Grandma Gladys.”

Sunny felt like someone had a gun to her head. Marisol looked at her granddaughter with a mixture of awe and pride. Mercedes had told the truth and thrown down the gauntlet. Ava, too, was impressed. She thought to herself that the young lady would have a brilliant future in law.

Sunny looked around the room, helplessly.

Nervously, Jenny G spoke up. As Sunny's housekeeper/nanny, she was afraid that participating in this intervention might get her fired. Still, Jenny had grown to love Sunny like a daughter over the years. She cleared her throat, and her voice quivered as she spoke. “Sunny, Mercedes is right. I'm not saying that rehab is all that you need. Because you need God, too. But you need to go somewhere and get your head together. You have to clean yourself up.”

Sunny glared at Jenny G, but was snapped out of it by Mercedes' voice.

“You look terrible, Mommy.” Mercedes shook her head, sadly. “I'm not saying it to hurt your feelings. I'm just telling the truth. I've never seen you like this before. I don't like it at all. This is not you.”

Ava marveled at Mercedes' candor, but silently agreed. Sunny wasn't herself at all.

“Sunny,” Ava said. “Earlier in the car, you said that you think I don't like you. But the truth is I've kind of looked up to you all these years. You and my sister.” Ava looked slightly embarrassed. “Maybe I was even a little jealous,” she admitted. “Even when I didn't agree with how you lived your life, I always admired you for keeping it together. You always maintained your composure, and you made it look effortless. You're such a go-getter. You're not afraid of anything, always in control. But the woman I saw today charging into that law firm was not the Sunny I know and love. I listened to you talking today and I think your story explains a lot. I see why you got hooked and I understand your family dynamics and all of that. But you've got an incredible daughter here. She's just like you. Tough, sassy, and smart. You have to meet her halfway and go into a program. We can find you someplace discreet.”

Sunny covered her face with her hands. This was a nightmare. She didn't want to go into rehab. What she wanted was to hit rewind, and have the events of the past week erased completely so that she could start over. She wanted to rewind to that day in Acapulco when she'd stormed off after Malcolm told her the truth she wasn't ready for. She had vowed not to get high anymore, and she had let herself and everyone else down. She looked up and saw Mercedes looking at her. An unspoken conversation took place between them then. Sunny's eyes said,
I'm lost and I'm so sorry.
Mercedes' said,
I forgive you. We can do this together.

Sunny wept openly. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Mercedes went to her mother and hugged her. Sunny threw her arms around her and hugged her back tightly. The two of them cried, so many raw emotions overtaking them at once. Soon, Marisol encircled them, and the three generations of women embraced tearfully, ready to face their challenges as a united front.

Afterward, Sunny looked Jada in the eyes. “I'm sorry for the things that I said earlier, about you and Born.” Jada nodded. “He loves you, Jada. You have to make things work between you.”

Jada looked over at Sheldon, and Sunny read her thoughts.

“He'll have to get over it. You have to be happy, too,” Sunny said.

Jada squeezed her hand and smiled weakly. “Right now, I'm just worried about you.”

Sunny winked at her. “Everything is gonna be just fine.” She wished she believed it. Somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach warning her that her troubles were far from over.

Sunny noticed Jenny G standing nearby, looking unsure. Sunny gestured toward the seat next to her, her lips curled into a slight smile. “Come sit with me, Jenny G.”

At fifty-nine years old, Jenny Gonzalez had seen it all. Having worked as a domestic all of her adult life, she had learned the art of understanding her employers. She had to know when to become invisible, and when to make her presence felt. She had worked for Sunny for years, ever since Sunny moved into her fancy Manhattan apartment after Dorian's death. She had seen Sunny up and had seen her down, too. But she had never crossed the line and intervened in Sunny's personal life. Until today.

Jenny sat now beside Sunny, unsure of what to expect from her unpredictable boss. They had a good relationship, but Jenny had rolled the dice when she agreed to be a part of Jada and Marisol's plan. Jenny had walked into Jada's apartment that day, knowing that Sunny might fire her for daring to question her behavior.

Her heart beat rapidly as she sat beside Sunny. She stared at her hands, wondering what she would do or where she would go if Sunny sent her packing. Jenny was an illegal Mexican immigrant, and had given up her rundown Bronx apartment years ago to move in with Sunny full time. She knew that she had enough money saved to start over, but the truth was that Jenny didn't want to go. She loved Sunny and Mercedes like family. Jenny fought the urge to burst into tears as she waited for Sunny to speak.

Sunny watched her housekeeper struggling with her emotions, and knew instinctively why Jenny was so anxious. She reached out and took the older woman's soft hands in hers, and met her gaze.

“Jenny, it's okay,” Sunny said, soothingly.

Jenny's tears plunged forth, and a lone sob escaped her. Sunny pulled her close and Jenny rested her head on Sunny's shoulder in relief.

Sunny resisted the urge to cry herself. She patted Jenny reassuringly, and comforted her. “You have nothing to worry about. You hear me?”

Jenny nodded, sat up, and retrieved a tissue from her pocket. She blew her nose, softly, and did her best to pull herself together.

Sunny took a deep breath. “I just want to tell you that I'm grateful.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she looked at Jenny intently, willing herself to hold it together. “You have been one of the few people that I can really trust. You've always had my back. You are loyal, and you only told me the truth—you, Jada, my mom … you were
all
right. I need to get help.” Sunny wiped the corners of her eyes where her tears had gathered. “I just want to say thank you for looking out for me and Mercedes all these years. You're like a second mom to me, Jenny.”