​​​Chapter Twenty-Nine
Wren

I took the rest of my supply when Rhonda dropped me off, strong inhalations of forgetting. It was the best kind of feeling, that initial high. Like my brain wanted nothing to do with me, which was perfectly fine.

I walked outside for a while, not even feeling the cold. I walked behind the apartment complex, pastel-colored walls on one side, drainage ditch on the other. I likened walking to forgetting and kept going faster until my legs gave out and stumbled back up the stairs to the apartment.

Dad didn’t even bother to show up.

Finally, Mom comes home. She says Jerry will be late, the Ballbarians wreaking major havoc on White Smoke’s local bowling scene. I find pork rinds in the pantry and stuff my mouth, trying to sober up while Mom is in the shower. I drink down the rest of the Kool-Aid Jerry’s made and try to list reasons why we can’t leave. I need stability. I’m a kid for crying out loud and can’t be jostled around like old furniture. If we keep moving, I’ll probably end up being one of those kids who smacks everyone around.

I think about The Mule.

One thing at a time. I stuff more pork rinds in my mouth.

I hear Mom finishing up in the bathroom and the nausea is on me. I should be in bed, sleeping off the haze.

When she finally comes in, I’m sitting at the table. It’s hard to keep a steady gaze on her, so I look at my hands, will my stomach to shut up.

“So. We need to talk.”

“Yes,” I say. The word is dry in my mouth, and I wish I could stand to get a cup of water.

“I don’t even know how to begin.”

“Let’s just go with how you always do.” I sigh it out, and I can feel Mom watching me.

“Wren, everything okay?”

“Still sick. Like yesterday.”

“Oh, geez. You’re not pregnant are you?” Mom raises a hand near my cheek. She’s still standing, and I wish she’d sit. She’s in her robe, no makeup. I wish the guys at Double Dees could get a glimpse of her, the notorious Natalie Reynolds, looking all of thirty-seven years right now. Maybe they’d actually see her as a human being for once.

“No, gah–no!”

“Okay, stomach bug then. Need to lie down?”

“No. Just tell me what you want to say.” Finally, she sits in front of me, and it’s just the two of us at the little brown table with the grandma chairs Jerry’s mother gave him. The fridge is behind my back, and I concentrate on its deep hum so I don’t throw up.

“Look, Jerry’s a wonderful guy, and I’m happy we found him.” If I didn’t feel so horrible, I’d spit out a laugh. Treasure hunters, the two of us. Digging around for the shiniest meal ticket. “He loves me, I know that.” Mom forks her fingers through her wet hair and stares up at a water stain on the ceiling. I wait to hear the feeling’s mutual although I know it will never happen.

“Well, what then? Get out my suitcase, right?” Mom knits her eyebrows. Her lips pucker.

“Wren, I think you need to lie down.”

“Just tell me!” I mean to slam my fist on the table, but I’m too soft with it. Mom’s still staring at me.

“Wren, I’m pregnant.” The processing takes a second too long. The refrigerator hums in and out of my thoughts and my belly is screaming at her. Pregnant. A brother. A sister. Someone else to shoulder this load. I think I feel something bloom beneath my strong desire to upchuck. Happiness.

“I wanted to tell you yesterday...”

“Oh, wow! Uh, I...I didn’t know. That’s so great, Mom!” I hope my face is smiling. My eyes burn with tears because it feels like what life is supposed to be, an unending circle.

Not a dead end.

“Look, Wren...”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl? Wait, it’s too early right? What about names? I’ve always liked–”

“I’m not keeping it, hun.” Mom’s back on the water stain, having a silent conversation with it above my head. The circle is snipped, and I’m back on my straight line to nowhere.

“Why? Jerry will be heartbroken.”

“Jerry doesn’t know and I–we–aren’t going to tell him.” Mom’s eyes climb back down from the ceiling and are fierce in her head. I understand now. I don’t want to place blame, but I figure it’s always been there, hiding most likely behind my spleen. I finger it now, throw it at my mother.

“You would. You would ruin everything.” I feel a burp of pork rinds and Kool-aid in my throat. I swallow hard. “I didn’t want to move, you know. I wanted to stay close to him.”

“He was gone, Wren. He wasn’t there anymore, and we didn’t have anyone to help us.” Mimi, Aunt Rebecca, Abuelo, but I never bring them up because it always shuts her down.

“And we do now? Or do we just have some dude willing to deal with you as long as you sleep with him?” The shot’s fired across the table and hits Mom in the heart. She starts nodding her head which scares me a little.

“Easy. Right? Right. Because...” Mom looks up again, catching her tears in her lids to keep them from falling. “Because it’s just so dang easy to lose your whole world and then to raise your child after what she’s seen. And you don’t know how hard I loved that man. That stupid, selfish man.” She wipes semi-circles under her eyes. “And it got me nowhere, Wren. That’s where we are right now. That’s our address. Nowheresville. All I try to do is make sure you’re fed and cared for, the best I can. My only goal. If you think any of this has anything to do with me, think again. And you know what? I messed up this time. I really don’t even know how this happened, but it happened. And I have to live with the consequences. But you’re going to have to forgive me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” The storm in my stomach calms. The refrigerator calms down, too. “I keep loving you and loving you. And I sometimes think, if I love you hard enough, it will be the right amount of love and something will happen. Maybe he will come back. Maybe we’ll finally be better off. I don’t know. But I’ve been wrong about that.”

I get brave, look at Mom’s face. My whole world smashed to pieces.

“Maybe I don’t love you like I thought.” It’s a lie but I say it anyways. Eye for an eye. I think of Mrs. Ling but then shut the woman up in the refrigerator.

“Fair enough.” Mom stands, clutches her robe. “But I’ll never stop loving you, Wren. And I hope one day you’ll understand all of this a little bit better.”

I laugh on the inside again. There’s no use understanding anything. I can hear Mrs. Ling pounding on the inside of the refrigerator door, and I try my best to ignore her. I look up and the water stain is growing larger like it’s trying to devour the kitchen. The room spins, and I let it spin. Things are feeling dark but before the lights turn all the way off, I vomit all over Jerry’s mother’s kitchen table.

Again, I laugh.