Page 89 of Dark Ugly Places

As he leaves the room with our baby, I dump out the vomit in our bathroom toilet and then stand there rinsing my mouth out with the bright blue mouthwash. The swirl of blue circles the drain round and round and round. I watch it, transfixed. That’s when she returns, her voice louder in my head.

Well, that was pathetic, wasn’t it? Let me in, Nicola. Why are you resisting?

I’d learned to ignore her over time, to put her away where she couldn’t talk. It was the best way. Tonight, though, is different. My body is weak, and something is different in me now. Despite my staunch control of every last detail, my planning, my rigid, careful preparation, everything is spiraling. Martha has room now that Emmy is out. She is free again.

So … what? You’re just going to let her eat some store-bought shit instead of mother’s milk?

“I’m not exactly feeling up to it,” I say into the mirror. “Back off.”

You mean breastfeeding or motherhood? Because I can take over if you want.

My hands press into the bathroom countertop, the coldness sinking into my flesh. I’d felt this deadness before in me, and I knew what it meant. She had a way of making everything just a little less vivid, a little hazy from the inside, like she required some piece of me to exist at all. Perhaps I’ll never be rid of her. There is only one way to remove Martha from me.

“Why don’t I make it easy for both of us, Martha? Why don’t I give you exactly what you want?”

She is silent, her breath pulsing inside me.

“Wouldn’t you like the chance to be free?”

Downstairs, Ben feeds Emmy. I pass him and go straight for the kitchen drawer. I pretend to look for something. “I love you,” I tell him and kiss him on the cheek.

“Are you feeling better?” he says, rocking Emmy a little with the bottle.

“I will be soon.”

Once, when Janice was little, she cut her thigh open on a sprinkler in the backyard. The gash was deep and nasty, and instead of going to the waterpark that Saturday, we had to whisk her off to the ER instead. At first, I was angry at Janice for not being more careful around that rusty old sprinkler. But then I thanked her because I learned at age seven what a femoral artery was, and how, if you cut it the right way, you can just keep bleeding.

My hands find the sharpest carving knife, the one we got from Ben’s mother for a wedding gift. The blade, long and gleaming, sends a chill up my spine. Even now, even in here in the dark place, reliving this memory, I can feel the cold tip against my warm leg.

The blood arrives, slow at first and then so fast that Ben doesn’t know whether to hold Emmy or try to hold me and stop the blood. And I’m convulsing, starting to see my world shrink, wondering what will come next.

The memory collapses, and I am alone again in the endless night.

Back then, I had Ben to call the ambulance, Ben to help stop the sea of red pouring from me, Ben to tell the police I had post-partum depression, Ben to get me help so we could keep Emmy.

Martha, are you listening? Can you hear? Ben isn’t here to save us this time.

38

Bambi

The November air is crisp and cold, the scents of pine trees from the hills and fireplaces burning make the evening feel alive.

Bambi dresses quickly while Jason waits downstairs, Agnes on the speakerphone, her voice blaring. Her skin prickles at the sound of their voices. He had returned so suddenly when the scandal broke out and sent a text minutes after boarding his flight. Now he was back home and insisting on a public display of bravado.

“Please, Jason. Don’t do this, honey.”

“Do what? I’m not going to hide away like some criminal.”

Her hands shake as she applies foundation and then contours her face. A smear of lipstick—a blood red shade Jason always liked.

“You just got back. Why not let things settle down a little first, you know? We’re in talks with the studio. We’re hopeful they’ll agree not to cancel your contract.”

“My contract?” she hears Jason howl. “Are you kidding me, Agnes? They’re trying to ruin me!”

“Sweetie, I know. But you need to lay low, okay? Let us handle this. We’ll get things back on track.”

“No way. I need to show them they cannot destroy Jason Redfern that easily.”