CHAPTER SEVEN

Susan tried raising her wooden head off the sofa. The bright room swam in front of her bleary eyes. Dizzy and nauseous, she lowered it back again, resting  once more on the soft leather beneath her. Her head throbbed, feeling the size of a watermelon. Her skull was thick and fuzzy. She blinked, placing shaky hands over her tender eye sockets, protecting them from the light. An image of her son behind bars surfaced, causing her pulse to kick up a notch. Trying to will the fuzziness from her brain she began to plan. He would need a lawyer, a competent lawyer. One who could help to overturn the trumped up farce of a charge. The real problem however, was she’d have to call her, the little bitch who caused all this.

  It was a mistake and she’d known it right from the beginning. He’d brought her home for dinner and hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. She shuddered at the memory. It had been sickening for her to watch. He’d fawned over her, getting her plate and filling it, feeding her forkfuls of meat and doting on her. It was like she didn’t exist anymore and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

 Of course the little princess ate it up. All the attention and adoration, as if it were no more than her do. She hadn’t even offered to do the dishes. Declan insisted on doing it all. He’d left the two of them in the living room to get to know each other better, while he cleaned up. Christ that was awkward! Just looking at the pretty little thing made her skin crawl.

 The little dolly was quiet, lost without Declan’s constant attentiveness. She hadn’t said much of anything, leaving most of the conversation up to her. And she had tried, for Declan’s sake. They’d spoken about the weather and god only knows what else. Her son eventually returned from the kitchen, wrapping his newly wrinkled hands around his little princess and planting a big wet kiss on her forehead. To her he simply acknowledged, “Thanks mom, it was good.”

 There was no other way around it. Not that she could see. She’d have to phone her and play nice. Willing her woozy body up and off the sofa she staggered to the bathroom. Christ she was shaky. When was the last time she’d eaten anything? Or showered, for that matter? She vowed to do better today. She would shower and eat, but first coffee.

 Placing the k cup into its pod she pushed the button. She barely registered the rich aroma of fresh coffee as the steaming contents filled her cup. It was all her fault. She knew it. If he hadn’t met her none of this would be happening. Oh sure he’d gotten into trouble before meeting her. But nothing alarming. Nothing, like this.

 She tasted the coffee and winced, adding milk Susan tried again. Swallowing she gagged. Oh shit. She retrieved the milk carton from the fridge and poured it down the sink. Rinsing it with cold water she wondered if she was suffering from an early onslaught of Alzheimer’s disease. She watched the thickened milk circle the drain, leaving behind a few white, chunky curds.

 Pouring another cup she drank it black. Her brow creased, she seemed to be forgetting everything these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bought groceries, or paid bills, or gone anywhere. It was like she was being consumed, from the inside out. What ever this was, it stole her daily life and everything else that ever mattered. Well, everything that is, except Declan.

 Coffee in hand she went in search of her phone. She’d just have to suck it up and call. Picking up the phone she remembered her commitment to attending some kind of group. She hadn’t wanted to, but her doctor insisted when she’d gone in to see her for a refill of pills. She needed the medication and was afraid if she argued, she wouldn’t get them. So she’d smiled and nodded in agreement and then went home and made the call. She knew she’d have to go to. She was almost out of pills and she needed more. Her doctor was sure to ask if she’d gone and why her pills were disappearing so fast. She figured she could probably BS about the pills. She wasn’t so sure about the group thing though.

 Sucking in a lungful of air she let the phone dial the number. Ring, ring, ring. Her heart rate accelerated with each ring and she wondered if she was having a heart attack.

 Hello you have reached the voice mail of Miranda. I am sorry I missed your call. Please leave your message after the beep.

 Oh shit! Now what? Susan placed the receiver back in its cradle, grateful to be rid of it. She hated talking on the phone, but wished she’d left a message. Christ why hadn’t she? Now she’d have to phone again. Her finger hovered over the button. All she had to do was press and she’d be put through. Her heart hammered wildly. She stood frozen, not able to make herself do it. The tension built, squeezing her, as she warred within to do this one, simple thing.

 Maybe she should take another pill. Just one, to help with the incredible pressure she was under. Reaching for her purse she stopped. NO she’d promised herself. No more pills, at least not in the daytime. They clouded her thinking and she couldn’t get anything done. Taking her piece of toast from the toaster she ate it dry. It stuck in her throat. She took a sip of black coffee to help swallow it.

  Memories echoed from the kitchen walls.There was a time when she’d loved cooking breakfast. It was so much fun cooking for her two hungry men. In those days Declan was always hungry. He never seemed to get enough food in him to satisfy and always wanted more. There wasn’t anything she liked better than seeing him happy, and was always eager to accommodate. One of his favorite meals was pancakes and sausages. She’d decorate the pancakes in whip cream and smiling faces. They’d laugh, even Dick, while waiting with  open mouths for their ‘shot’ of whip cream. Sometimes she’d purposely miss and they’d have an all out, whip cream battle, while sitting at the kitchen table.

 A tear trickled down her cheek. She absently brushed it away as she finished the toast, licking the dry crumbs from her fingers. The toast helped a little, with the burning pain ever present in her stomach these days. They’d been her world, those two. The reason she got out of bed each morning. When Dick left, her world shifted and she’d clung to Declan even tighter.

  Declan’s newly gaunt face flashed before her. She wondered if he missed her, or even thought of her at all. They hadn’t seen much of each other lately. But she would change that. Once she got him out of jail it would be different. Maybe they would go away for awhile. Just the two of them, like it used to be. She might even put the house on the market. She’d been rattling around in it for way to long anyhow and would probably need the money. God only knew what it was going to cost, trying to get him out. She just hoped she had enough. Dick had left her in pretty good shape, but it had dwindled over the years. And Declan was always so well…. needy. Not in a bad way of course, it was just he never seemed to get a break.

  She’d first noticed it when he was little. It seemed there was always one teacher or another picking on him. She’d get the phone calls and reports. The teachers saying he wasn’t being cooperative or he wouldn’t focus on the task at hand. She would argue, insisting they weren’t approaching it right. She knew her son and how to handle him. They just didn’t handle him the right way. One teacher was even rude to her when she mentioned this. Secretly, she understood why Declan was so bored in class. She found their lessons ridiculous too. For some reason, they just never seemed to get how special her son was.

 Rinsing the plate she placed it in the dishwasher. It’s only company the coffee cup she’d used yesterday. 

  Ok Susan you need to get it together. You can do this. Heading for the shower she tried preparing for the day to come. She had that stupid group thing to attend, she needed to call Miranda back, and to find a lawyer.

  The heated marble tiles on her luxurious bathroom floor were warm below her feet. Although she no longer noticed them, running the water in the steam shower as she stripped off her clothes. Her reflection stopped her. Susan stood gaping at the image in the mirror. When had she gotten so old? Her recent weight loss was not an attractive look. Her skin sagged in places it never used too. Her face look tired and she had grey roots. Long grey roots. Her lips were mere pencil lines and she could see new creases etching the corners of her eyes.

 The mirror she stared into clouded with steam erasing her image and the spell was broken. She showered in the stall big enough for six. For one, it was just another reminder of times that no longer were. Dressing in her large walk in closet, she pulled on the first pair of jeans she could find. They hung loosely. She covered them up with a thick cotton sweater followed by a vest. Maybe no one would notice with the extra layers.

  Pulling her hair up she pinned it, trying as best she could to hide the grey roots. Feeling more confident now, she vowed to make the call.  Susan picked up the phone, determination lifting the receiver, and squaring her jaw. Her arm jerked to a halt, stopping in midair.

 Jesus! Such a simple thing! Why can’t I do this? Noise, loud and scratchy, muffled her thoughts. Her heart thundered. Tension tightened her shoulders. Panic returned, stealing her breathe. Her hand found the solution, even as reasoning said No, and then, maybe.

 Opening the bottle she carefully cut the pill in two, putting the remaining half back in the bottle. With trembling fingers she placed the other half in her mouth. Swallowing, she pushed the bottle away, licking her lips. It wasn’t a big deal. Not really.

It was only half.

And only this one time.