Expressing a scornful humph, my mother tried to keep up. “What are you talking about? Kyle knew about this?”
Taking a deep breath, I let it out. It was the only way. “Kyle and I have been lovers since I was sixteen. This is Abigail. I had his baby,” I said handing over the photo. She stared at it in complete shock and consternation. Her brown eyes were the same as mine. Her dark hair and light skin was the same as mine. The rest of her features were that of an undeniable Edwards. Her long eyelashes, the high cheekbones, the pouty lips. They belonged to Kyle.
“You kept this from me? How? I didn’t even know you were in touch with any of them. Melanie? What about Melanie?”
“I wasn’t in touch with any of them. I hooked up with Kyle the last time I came home for Christmas. Abigail was born three months premature. I thought she died. I didn’t know he had her until yesterday.”
“Gia? Does she know?”
“Gia’s always known.”
“I’m flabbergasted. How could she be okay with this?”
“She wasn’t okay with it. She just hid it very well. She hates me for it. I mean, come on. I was doing her dad.”
“Not really…”
“Great. Really, Mom? What? Tell me. Tell me all the lies. Let’s get it out right now,” I yelled.
“I’m not sure this is good for you. Maybe we should talk about it later. Oh my god, McKenzie. You have a baby. How could I not know this?”
“Because you didn’t care enough to find out, and we’re experts at lying. Tell me.”
“I shouldn’t. It isn’t my place.”
“You really think I’m too weak to know? I’m a lot stronger than you think. I’ve had a lot to deal with on my own. I can handle it.”
“Kyle isn’t Gia’s dad, either.”
“Really? You’re going to go there? Why? Look at this, Mom. Look at her. She looks just like Gia did. She’s an Edwards, Gia’s an Edwards.”
“I never said she wasn’t an Edwards, just not Kyle Edwards’.”
I could feel the look of confusion on my face. “What do you mean?”
“Gia’s dad is doing life in prison for killing her mother.”
“But Melanie is her mom.”
“No she isn’t. Her mother’s dead. She is an Edwards, however. Jerod Edwards. Uncle Jerod. Gia was three months old when she came to live with Melanie and Kyle.”
Gia’s life was a lie, too. “But I’ve never heard of a Jerod, ever.”
“That was the deal Melanie made when she agreed to adopt her. Gianna was never to find out. You can’t tell her, McKenzie. There’s no point in it now. Let it go.”
I felt sick. Repulsed. Gia and I were both products of fucked up parents.
“I need to lay down for a while,” I stressed. I was going to fall down if I didn’t.
“Will you please think about coming to Texas with your dad and me?”
“He’s not my dad.”
“For whatever it’s worth, McKenzie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. If I could go back and do it over again, I would. I love you so much.”
“Yeah.” I had no words. My plan to drop the enormous bomb in my mother’s lap just backfired. I was left holding the aftermath.
“Have you seen her?” My mom asked, handing me back the photo.
I shook my head, unable to speak. She kissed my forehead and told me she would be back later. I nodded. I may never be able to speak again. I should call Lila. No. I couldn’t talk. Sliding down in my bed, I stared at the white wall blankly. I didn’t feel. I didn’t think. This was a manic part of my disease that I needed. My brain knew when enough was too much. This only happened a few times throughout my life. The night Kyle took my virginity, the night we went to Mr. Nichols house, the day he was sentenced, the day Abigail was born, the first night I was at the asylum, and now this. Welcoming the silence in my mind, my eyes dried from being opened. I blinked, wishing I could cry.
I wished I could just cry like normal people. Even normal, bipolar people cried. I didn’t have that emotion. I couldn’t cry. No matter how hurt and confused I was, I couldn’t cry. This emotion was the next best thing. At least my mind was at rest. Sort of.
I watched the clock on the cable box below the television turn every minute. It started at 7:03 am and went until 9:19 am. Blank. Nothing. No thinking. Just minutes. That’s it. Once, around eight, my mind started reflecting on the number eight. It stopped when I got to crazy eight. I didn’t want to be crazy anymore. I didn’t want to be, period. The only problem with that was Cara. No. No. Not Cara. Abigail. I couldn’t check out. I wanted to know her.
“Good morning. How are you feeling this morning?” the doctor with the not so long hand asked, sounding way too cheerful for my somber mood.
“Better. Can I leave?”
“I hope so. Let’s take a look at your leg.”
Sliding the thin sheet down, I winced when he removed the wrap. Gross. That looked bad. The cut was at least nine inches long, clear down the inside of my leg.
“Ah. Much better. We’re going to keep you on the antibiotic for two weeks. One of the medications your physiatrist wants you on weakens the strength. We’ll keep you on it for two weeks just to be safe. You can shower, just don’t emerge yourself in a tub. Apply a clean bandage twice a day, and you’re going to need to set up an appointment to have the stitches removed in about a week. Do you have any questions before we yank this IV out of your arm?”
No words. I shook my head.
“Great. I’m going to sign your release papers, and as soon as you have some lunch, you can go. You take care, okay?”
I shook his hand and nodded, seeing Kyle over his shoulder. The doctor left and the nurse cleaned the incision and bandaged my leg with fresh gauze. Kyle and I stared at each other while she hurriedly finished.
“How are you?” he asked when she left.
“Where is she?”
“She’s with Gianna.”
I didn’t like that. I didn’t want my baby around Gianna. “Go get her.”
“Let’s talk.”
“Yeah, Kyle. Let’s talk.”
“Kenzie? You okay?”
“Not a whole lot, Kyle. It seems that my life is nothing but a lie. How about yours. How much of your life has been a lie, Kyle?”
“McKenzie, what are you talking about?”
“My mom was here bright and early. I told her about Abigail,” I said, sliding out of bed. I needed to be standing. I needed to pace to keep from rocking. I didn’t want him to see that. I was getting my baby back. One way or another. Even if we had to go live at the haunted asylum and bathe in the stream. She was mine. I was taking her.
“You did? How did it go?”
“Not like I thought it would. You see, all these years of me thinking I was fucking Gia’s dad turned out to be nothing but a lie. Of course, you already know that, right?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You know what else? Mark Perry’s not my dad, either. Of course, you already know that too, huh, Kyle?”
“I think you should calm down, Mack. This isn’t good for you.”
“Not good for me? Not good for me? Lies. That’s what’s not good for me, Kyle. I’m sick of all the lies. All the secrets. All the goddamn blatant lies. What else don’t I know? Are there any more, Kyle? Tell me. Let’s get it out, lay them out, right here,” I suggested, spreading my imaginary blanket with my arms. He looked away. He no doubt looked away. There were more. I sensed it.
“You know what? Just forget it. I want to see my daughter.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea yet. I don’t want you to scare her.”
“Scare her?” I asked, feeling the frown between my brows. Was this guy for real? “I want her away from Gianna Edwards. I don’t want her anywhere near the things that girl is capable of.”
“That girl is still my daughter, Mack.”
“No, see that’s where you’re wrong. Gianna doesn’t have your blood
pumping through her veins. She has your brother’s.” Calm down, McKenzie. Breathe. Slow. Deep. Breaths.
“Mack, please sit down.”
Breathe. Keep it together. “I don’t want to sit down. I want YOU to go get my daughter.” Shit. This wasn’t working. Calm the hell down, McKenzie.
“I’m not bringing her to you like this.”
“Like what, Kyle? Hypersexual?” I sang, moving close to him, to his scent, to his delicious lips. No. Stop it. We’re talking about Abigail, not sex. Shit. Where the hell did this emotion come from? I wasn’t hypersexual five minutes ago. Yes I was. I felt the throbbing as soon as I saw the V on his chest. I wanted to run my fingers through it.
“Do you want me to get your doctor?”
“I. WANT. YOU. TO. GET. MY. DAUGHTER!” I screamed. I didn’t mean to do that. What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t do this. Not now.
“Kyle?”
Oh shit. Was this bad?
“Mark,” Kyle nodded.
Yup this was bad.
“Call security,” a nurse yelled, I didn’t know which one it was. I think there were at least three of them, running to either my scream for my child or the two grown men, knocking over tables, pulling the curtains off the wall, and throwing punches.
“You son of a bitch,” my dad said, obtaining a gut punch. My mom and the nurses got them apart after Kyle through a left hook to my dad’s jaw.
Security hauled them out and I was left standing with my mother, mouth opened and wide eyed. I could hear the wind chimes. I didn’t want the wind chimes. Dropping to the floor, I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked. I didn’t know how else to handle everything without reverting inside my own demon filled mind.
“Are you okay? McKenzie?” I could hear my mom. I knew it was her voice, but I couldn’t make it out. Was that me? Was I crying? I didn’t cry. I didn’t have that emotion. It broke when I was five. When I heard the wind chimes. I broke it again when I buried my baby, blaming that one on the lack of medication.
“Where am I,” I asked the strange lady. Where was my mom? This wasn’t my hospital room. “Why am I restrained?” I asked, pulling on my cuffed wrists.
“You’re at Twin Springs. We’re going to help get you all better. How do you feel?”
“Twin Springs?”
“You’re in a treatment center. Don’t worry, we’re going to take good care of you. Do you feel like you could eat?”
“Untie me.”
“We will, sweetie. Let me go get your doctor. She’s been waiting for you to wake since you got here.”
“How long have I been here? Where is here?”
“New York. Is that what you meant? Do you remember the flight here?”
I shook my head, trying to remember what happened. My dad and Kyle fought. Security took them away. My mom was trying to calm me. The wind chimes, and the ear piercing scream that was mine, and Abigail. I didn’t get to see her.
“Where’s my mom?”
“I’m not sure. Let me get Doctor Montgomery for you.”
“Montgomery? Lila Montgomery?” I hoped, trying to sit up. I couldn’t. My hands and legs were restrained.
“Yes. I’ll go get her for you,” she smiled.
I turned my head, looking for a clock, anything to help me remember how the hell I got here. I was in North Carolina. I flew on a plane and didn’t even remember it. There was no sign of the time in the clean, safe room. Twin Springs, where peace is your friend. I snickered, reading the fancy writing decals above a wall mounted television.
I never did understand why they called these places things like that. Twin Springs, meant to portray serenity. Bullshit. They should have just called it what it was. A fucking mental hospital. Goddamnit. I screwed up again.
“Hey, stranger.”
At least I had Lila. I smiled, happy to see my old friend. She really needed to retire. I could tell that she had aged even if it was only a little over a year since I had seen her.
“Get these things off me,” I said light heartily. I was very pleased to see her.
“You’re not going to knee any more men in the crotch are you?” she teased, unstrapping my wrists.
“Um, being that I don’t remember doing that, I’m going to refrain from digging myself deeper. What the hell is going on, Lila? I don’t want to be here. I want to see my daughter.”
“You will. You’re not leaving here until we have you regulated again. You can’t just stop taking your medicine like that for weeks. I’m keeping you here until you understand that.”
“Oh, well you’re in luck. I understand. Now let me leave,” I pled, rubbing my wrists.
“Sure you do. You’re the most stubborn patient I’ve had in all my thirty-seven years.”
“But you love me.”
“Hmm, I’m going to refrain from responding to that one. How are you feeling?”
“Like I always feel. I feel fine.”
“You’ve been through a lot, McKenzie. I want you to deal with it.”
“Deal with it? How do you suggest I do that?”
“Lose the bitterness and resentment.”
“Toward?”
“Where should I start?”
“Humph, isn’t that the truth?”
“Let’s start with your dad. How do you feel about that?”
“Can I get up?”
“To pace?”
“Yes. And I have to pee.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” I called from the bathroom, dropping my gray sweatpants to my knees. That was another thing about these places. The clothes were hideous. This particular hospital uniformed sweats with purple tee shirts. I hated purple. I have ever since my pretty girl stage back in school.
“Okay, let’s figure it out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” I asked, going to the window. I always did that. Why did I always go to the window? Hey. I knew this place. I was here before, I remembered, looking to the familiar parking lot. This was the place I stayed for three days when Lila was out of town and I decided it was okay to walk down the sidewalk of the Big Apple shirtless. I got an STD from some idiot that weekend, and didn’t even remember it. The purple shirt represented Tuesday. Tomorrow would be yellow. Pretty pastel colors.
“What do you know about it?”
“Well, from what I gathered. My mother met my dad, Mark, in college. They dated through school, but split when she wanted to go back home to Michigan and my dad took a job in Rhode Island. She got pregnant with me by my real dad, but I think she was still in love with my Mark dad.”
“Why do you think that? Did your mother tell you that?”
“No, not really. Maybe I’m just trying to make a fairytale out of a messed up situation.”
“In that case, continue.”
“I picture my dad causing a lot of problems. I think he couldn’t handle knowing he might give this Bipolar Disorder thing to anything he created. I bet he wanted my mother to get an abortion, because he knew what my life would be like. I think he hung himself because he couldn’t fathom the thought of doing that to another human being.”
“Wouldn’t that make it all for nothing? I mean, he knew you were going to be here with or without him, right?”
“Yeah, but I still think in his mind, like mine, the thought of someone you love going through this was unbearable.”
“Is that why you left her, McKenzie?”
Damn. She always did this. “Yeah. What if she’s like me, Lila? What if it’s already starting? It could be, you know.”
“Maybe, but this disorder is very manageable. Do you know how many people live with this disease? Lots.”
“Yeah, and do you know how many of those people took their life just like my father? Googled it once. It’s astronomical. Are you bipolar?”
“You know I’m not.”
“I do. That’s why I think you can’t know what a life like this is. I don’t think you can learn it from a text book.”<
br />
“Are you doubting my ability to help you, or just insulting my intelligence? Do you know who Nelly Bligh is?”
“Of course. I’ve read everything there is to read about places like that.”
“Well I have done what she did countless times throughout my years.”
“You pretended to be crazy to live in an asylum? I think you’re a liar. If you purposely put yourself in one of these, there is something seriously wrong with you.”
“Possibly, but I needed to be put there to see, to feel, to let all my senses soak up what this disorder does to people. I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“I would argue that, but I really can’t. You’ve helped me more than anyone. I appreciate that. I really do. And you’re here now. I need to see her. I know the signs to look for. He doesn’t. She needs to be with me.”
“Signs? Like what?”
“Well, like how I used to nervously twist the bottoms of my shirts. How I used to bite my nails so low they hurt. How I used to pull hairs from my arms, one by one. Lots of little things like that. I would know. He’s not going to know.”
“I think he will. I’m sure he’ll be on top of it, McKenzie. And you never know. She might be perfectly fine.”
“I hope. I feel my entire life has been a lie. Nothing is what it seems.”
“But, if you see it in a positive spectrum, it’s all out, right? You can move forward from here.”
“All but the wind chimes and the beach. Why do I keep having that vision? Something happened that day, Lila. I know it did.”
“What if it didn’t? What if it only happened in your mind? I once had a patient that swore he watched his child sink in a lake. She was in a Volkswagen and he couldn’t get her out. I could tell you lots of stories like that. Maybe that part is okay to be let go of now. Let’s focus on what’s more important.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe that was a figment of my imagination. I would have to think about that. She was right about focusing on more positive things. Abigail. I wanted Abigail.
“How long do I have to stay here? You know how much I hate these places.”
“I want you to do some group therapy.”
“No way. I’m not doing that. You should know me enough to know that’s not going to happen. Half these crazies wouldn’t know what the hell I was saying, anyway. I’m not doing that.”