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“You drink too much, Kelly,” Meghan said.
“Tell me something I don’t already regret. Can you get me a glass of water?”
“Yes. But then I think Mom’s going to force you to come home for a bit to dry out. She may have already talked to Rob.”
“She did what?”
“They had a long talk this morning about all kinds of things, and he said it’d be best if you went home for a few days to ‘sort stuff out.’ He told her he’d be at the gym after work, and for us to come and get you. He doesn’t want you at home when he gets back.”
“Oh god.”
“Indeed.” Meghan laughed. “When you screw up, you certainly don’t do it any way but royally.”
My mother returned with my old leather overnight bag in her hands. “I grabbed this from the front hall closet. Please, get some other clothes on. I am not taking you in the car smelling like that.”
She started to tug at my dress but I batted her hands away. “For fuck’s sake, Mother, I can dress myself.”
“Don’t swear at me. It’s as if we’re living that god-awful prom night all over again. Aren’t you at least a decade older now? Have you learned nothing in your years on the earth?”
“It’s nothing like that prom night. Everything’s going to be fine. I don’t need to leave. I need to sort stuff out with Rob. I’m sure I need to apologize.”
“He doesn’t want to hear it,” my mother stated with a sense of finality that honestly scared me. “Pack a bag, and that is that. Let’s go.”
I threw my hands up into the air. “I can’t fight you. I’ll go take a shower. I’ll put on those clothes. If we’re leaving, then you pack. Please don’t forget to pack me some underwear. You always forget something important when you’re packing. Despite how much practice you’ve had.”
My mother gave me a look that saidToo far. Don’t push your luck.
* * *
Hot. The shower had to be as hot as I could stand it. I was too woozy even to stand, so I sat down and let the steam swirl around me. What had I done? Bits and pieces were coming back to me. Drinking a bit more wine. Furiously typingsomethingon my BlackBerry. Screaming at Rob, him going to bed, and me closing myself in our closet and crying. But I can’t believe he left me here. I must have said some things that were truly unforgiveable. We’d never fought this much or this intensely before. And I was scared. But was I more scared of being on my own or being without Rob? If I was honest with myself, I didn’t know.
The bathroom was steamy, which made my stomach even more queasy. Wiping the condensation away with a towel, I took a good hard look at myself. Black mascara was mixed with the bags under my eyes. My complexion was pale, paler than normal. And my eyes were dull. My highlights needed a touch-up, and my hair needed a good trim. What my life needed right now was that makeover montage in every rom-com I’d ever watched with Meghan.
“We’re leaving in five minutes, Kelly,” my mother shouted. “Hurry up. I’m going to make you some coffee.”
As I stepped out of the bathroom, Meghan came into the bedroom. “Is she ever mad at you,” she said. “You probably didn’t need that crack about packing.”
“No, probably not.” I collapsed onto my bed and immediately felt that all-too-familiar day-after dizziness spread from one end of my body to the other. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Try to make it to the bathroom, at least. If you start puking, I am for sure going to start puking too.”
I did make it to the bathroom and managed to vomit the bilious contents of my stomach into the toilet without much mess. I splashed cold water on my face and changed into the clothes my mother had handed me. By the time I got out of the bathroom, she and my sister had their coats on and were waiting by the front door with my bag.
“I need a minute,” I said. “Is Rob really not going to at least be here to say good-bye? You’re sure he doesn’t want to talk to me, like, at all?”
“Not at all,” my mother confirmed. “You have one minute to write a note. We’ll be in the car, with the engine running. You’ll be responsible for ruining the earth if you don’t get your ass downstairs.”
The ice cream from last night had melted into a sad, sticky puddle all over our dining-room table. It smelled old and off. Rob was right about everything. I felt like the most horrible person in the world. I let the water in the kitchen sink run as hot as it went, filled a bowl, and found a sponge. Without rubber gloves, I plunged the sponge into the hot water and wiped down the table until there was no more evidence of last night—on that surface, anyway—and then I went down to join my family, waiting for me in the car. My mother silently handed me a cup of coffee in a travel mug, and I burst into tears for the second time in three days. I don’t know if I’d ever cried this much in all my twenty-eight years of being alive.
* * *
My mother drove carefully out onto Queen Street and through the neighborhoods in relative peace and quiet until we turned off Spadina to get on the highway, the quickest way back to Etobicoke. The car was too silent. My mother was brewing, like a rich cup of tea, and it wouldn’t be long before she poured out her opinions.
“This is an intervention,” my mother said. I burrowed deep down into my coat in the backseat, wiped my eyes, and attempted to concentrate on the radio show playing on the CBC. My sister, who was sitting up front in her giant, puffy down coat, was trying very hard not to giggle.
“What do you mean, intervention? Did I suddenly pick up a heroin habit over the holidays? You’ve been watching too much A&E, Mother. Did you and Carl watch some sort of twenty-four-hour supermarathon once all the festivities were finished?”
“This is a you are ruining your life intervention. Mooning over some man you work with, ignoring your—ahem—fiancé, shitting all over your perfectly good job? You need to get it together, Kelly. You’re drinking too much, and you look sallow and depressed. So, intervention.”
