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I scoffed. “I can’t believe this! My life, my reputation, they are all up for grabs, but Heaven forbid that we mess with ticket sales!”
“Taryn, just stop.”
“No! Screw that. I’m sitting here – banged up – broken – our first child is gone and I have to swallow it all because of ticket sales. You know what Ryan? Fuck you!” I snapped my phone shut.
His mother’s mouth dropped open but I didn’t care anymore. He just informed me where I rated on his priority list.
Two minutes later he called back. I hung up on him and then turned my cell phone off. The tears were pouring out of my eyes. The pain in my stomach from my ribs being bruised was no longer stifled by Percocet. I pulled a pillow over top of my ice pack and wept uncontrollably.
“Taryn, Honey.” His mother tried to console me. “Don’t get yourself so upset.”
Her cell phone rang.
“I’m not talking to him right now!” I sputtered through my tears.
“Ryan, you shouldn’t get Taryn upset like this! She needs to heal!” She moved her conversation to my kitchen, but I could still hear her.
“Son, she lost a baby! You need to be more understanding. She’s in the living room crying her eyes out. She doesn’t need this stress right now.
I know Honey – you don’t either.”
Ellen came back into the living room and held out her phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Tell him to ask Marla what I should say.” I wiped my eyes with my shirtsleeve.
“Taryn!” She used that stern mother tone with me. That was all I could take.
I grabbed the end of the couch with my unbroken arm and slid my body to the edge so I could stand up. “Ow,” I cried out, hunching from the pain that rocketed through my body.
“Just stay sitting,” she reprimanded me.
“No, I need to stand up,” I grit through my teeth.
She tried to brace me but there wasn’t a spot on my body that wasn’t bruised or busted. I managed to get my legs underneath me and I slowly straightened up. Ellen held out her phone with Ryan still holding. I took it from her hand.
“You know, when I was lying in the street, I was so relieved when the paramedics strapped me to that board and finally put me in the ambulance.
It meant that I was no longer on display for the paparazzi to take my picture over and over again while I lay there bleeding. Then when the paramedic
cut every piece of clothing off my body and I felt like I was being raped, I thought that that was the worst moment of my life.
“Then when the doctor told us that our child died inside me, I thought that was the worst moment of my life. But to hear that my life has to continue in a circle of lies and pain so that people go to see your movies, it just makes it all worthwhile. Thank you for that.” I snapped her phone shut and handed it back to her. I locked my bedroom door behind me.
A few hours later Ellen gently knocked on my door. “Taryn, Honey? Are you hungry?”
“No thank you.” I had gone through an entire box of tissues from crying. I knew she had talked to Ryan about five times. Her phone rang every twenty minutes.
“Come on sweetheart, you have to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”
I didn’t care; I wasn’t hungry so I ignored her.
Ten minutes later there was another knock on my door. This knock was louder.
“Taryn, it’s Marie. Open up.”
I had to give Ryan’s mom credit; she was resourceful.
“I’m okay, Marie. Just leave me alone.” I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to wallow in my own misery.
“Hey Pete, it’s Marie. I need you to come over to Taryn’s and take her bedroom door down. She locked herself in. Just bring a drill and saw so we can cut the doorknob off. What? I should just kick it in with my foot?”
Marie smiled at me when I opened the door. She only pretended to call Pete. “That’s what’s going to happen if you ever lock yourself in here again,” she informed.
I heard Ellen talking on her phone, obviously to Ryan. She scurried for the living room when I came out of my room. She was giving Ryan a playby-
play account of my actions. He called his mom several times that night, but I refused to talk to him each time. I was so hurt that no apology could fix it. The next afternoon, flowers showed up. Three dozen long stemmed red roses accompanied by an “I love you - I’m so sorry” note. I left them in the box to rot. Like roses would make everything better somehow – perhaps give me a rosy outlook? Yeah right! So much for a happy Valentine’s Day. If his mother weren’t here, they would have gone in the trash, but Ellen found my crystal vase and spent a few minutes fussing with them.
