I watch her face as it keeps turning deeper shades of red, like her whole head might pop off. Her voice is growing hoarse from yelling so much, but she still won’t let up. My head pounds. Suddenly all I want is to go to sleep. I want to curl up and sleep forever—hidden away in a tight space somewhere, like between the bed and the wall. I could fall right asleep if she’d just let me.
But she won’t and I don’t. I stand up and walk into the tiny kitchen, taking out the new jar of that blueberry herb and packing a bowl. I hit it long and hard.
“Oh, sure, yeah, of course,” she says, yelling through clenched teeth. “Just smoke more pot, that’s really great. God, you’re such a hypocrite, lying to everyone about what a little angel you are. I mean, Nic, you are not sober. Don’t you get that? You smoke pot because you’re a drug addict who’s too much of a pussy to deal with real life. You lie and you lie and you lie to me and you lie to yourself. You are a liar, Nic, that’s what you are. You lie so much you don’t even know the difference anymore. This is the end, you got that? From now on you can’t use my car, and I won’t pay for anything. You’re gonna stay right here all day when I’m at work, and then you’re gonna spend every night with me until we get back to Charleston. I’m sick of your shit. Do you understand me?”
“Uh, yeah, I understand.”
I take another hit and then stuff the herb and the pipe into my pocket. Immediately I go grab my suitcase and start packing it.
Sue Ellen screams and cries so horribly I’m actually scared. “No! No! You cannot go. Don’t do this, please, Nic, please. You don’t have to do this.”
It takes me less than a minute to get a bag together. I hoist it onto my shoulder and put Tallulah on the leash.
“Wait a minute,” she whines. “Wait.”
I get the door open and then speak to her, very quiet and even. “Look. I’m gonna go to my mom’s for a couple nights. I have that speaking thing in Washington this weekend, so let’s just take this time apart. I’ll call you when I get back on Sunday. But, listen, this really is the best thing for both of us. I agree with everything you said. I do. And I can see now that you’d be better off without me.”
Tears come streaming down her face. “No,” she says, gritting her teeth again. “That’s fucking bullshit. And there’s no way I’m letting you take Tallulah. I don’t trust you with her. You’re going down, Nic. It’s obvious. And I don’t want Tallulah around you and that crack whore.”
I have to say, I do sort of panic at that. My breath catches, and I feel the muscles in my back and shoulders tighten.
“She’s my dog,” I say, my voice cracking like I might cry. “She’s the only thing I’ve got. I would never, ever put her in danger. You know how much she means to me. I couldn’t take not being with her. So you better not fight me for her. I said I’d call you on Sunday, and I will call you on Sunday. There’s nothing more to discuss.”
And so I walk out of there, with Tallulah pulling on the leash, both of us real happy to be outside.
It’s just about a fifteen-minute walk to my mom’s temporary place on the canals, so I call her on the way and basically tell her I’m coming over. She sounds excited, actually. I mean, I think she gets kind of lonely being on her own. She greets us at the door when we get there and tells me she’s sorry, and I thank her over and over. It’s pretty cool, you know, how my mom’s really started being there for me, ’cause it definitely hasn’t always been this way. But she’s good to me and Tallulah, offering us food and making up the spare bed. She even stays up talking with me for about an hour, listening to my complaining and venting and whatever. She gives Tallulah treats and tells me everything’s gonna be all right. I’m not sure I believe her, but I appreciate it just the same.
Eventually, though, she goes up to bed, and I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth while Tallulah waits outside the door.
Now, I swear, I had absolutely no intention of rummaging through my mom’s stuff or anything. But I did realize I forgot to bring toothpaste, so I open a couple drawers, trying to find where the hell she might keep hers. And I do. I do find toothpaste. I find toothpaste and a bottle of Klonopin and a bottle of Darvocet.
“Oh, thank God,” I say out loud, quickly popping one of the Klonopins and two of the Darvocets. It really is like a miracle to find that shit. My heart’s been racing so fast for the last few hours I feel like it might explode at any second. So, yeah, I take the painkillers, of course, and pocket a few for tomorrow or whenever.
I go lie down in bed, and Tallulah curls up all pressed against me.
“Well,” I whisper, looking up at the painted wood ceiling, “looks like it’s just you and me now, girl. But don’t worry, things are gonna be better from here on out,
