Chapter LII

The rest of my night was spent crying. Hating myself for being so stupid. Being angry at myself for not noticing. And sad that all the power to make me happy rested in the hands of another person. But eight hours of crying had a strong silver lining: I slept like a baby.

In the morning, my bed was wet. Cora's fault, I reminded myself. Those tapes, or whatever Etta was talking about. But at the same time, I knew this wet bed wasn't all Cora's fault. It was mine too. I knew this would happen, and I could have put a diaper on last night. But I'd made my own decision. The wrong decision. And to make matters worse... I sort of missed my diapers.

I crawled out of bed and started to strip my sheets. Sam was only my maid because we lived in this house, because she was employed by the Gladstones. If I was going to leave this all behind, I needed to take care of my own wet sheets. This seemed like a good trial run.

I threw all my sheets and my wet pajamas in the laundry hamper and went downstairs. Three flights of stairs, to the washing machine. Then up to the kitchen to find some cleaning products. And back upstairs to clean the bed. Back downstairs to make breakfast.

I hadn't cooked for myself in weeks. The process was far more tedious than I remembered. Waiting for toast. Waiting for burners to heat up. Waiting for food to cool. Using three different utensils that would need to be washed. A pan, a plate. I ate in the quiet kitchen, wondering where everyone was. Even the head maid wasn't around...

I switched my laundry to the dryer and decided not to go to work. After all, it wasn't really my job, was it? Prin probably knew all about this. I'd have to be mad at her too. I didn't have the energy to be mad today.

So I sat on the sofa in the living room and put on a TV show. The Netflix app had been unlocked and I could access all the adult shows. I put on something I used to watch. A formulamatic crime drama. But the thing is... TV is just TV. A kids show and an adult show is basically the same thing. You can anticipate what's going to happen nine times of ten, and the plots are only interesting twice a season. So what's the point, anyway? I went downstairs and got my sheets out of the laundry, then went upstairs and made my bed. As good a time as any to take a shower, I supposed.

Showers. I hadn't had showers in a while. It was all baths, recently. Baths in a big tub. Almost like swimming, or spending time in a hot tub. Recreation, so to speak. But showers felt like work. Wash my hair. Wash my body. Shave, if I need to. Efficient and boring.

After drying off and putting my pink hair up in a towel, I sat my naked ass down on the toilet for the first time in a week. In less than a second, I started to pee. The stream splashed loudly into the bowl and the heat I had come to expect against my skin never came. And when I was done, I was done. It was... the least eventful thing I'd ever done in my entire life. Yeah, maybe wetting a diaper was gross and weird. But it was an experience. A gross, weird experience. So which was better?

For lunch, I made a peanut butter sandwich and ate some carrot sticks. For dinner, I ordered pizza from a Dominos down the street. I shared my meals with the cast of Law and Order.

I never saw Cora. I never saw Mr. Gladstone. Even Sam and I only ran into each other a few times throughout the day. She said she would look up some apartments online.

I snagged a bottle of rum from the liquor cabinet - which I should really pay for - and took it to my room. Two hours later, I drunkenly pissed my bedsheets just to feel something. To be reminded of a time I wasn't so fucking lonely...

Tuesday morning, I woke up at seven with a hangover and at ten without one. By eleven, my disgust for wet sheets overruled my depression and I finally got out of bed. This mattress was probably ruined...

I was in the middle of pouring myself a bowl of cereal when I caught Cora's eye. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing her pajamas.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Okay..."

"I'd like to know..." Cora asked, quietly, not making direct eye contact. What was the point of trying to talk her out of it? She had moved on. If Cora was lucky, maybe she wouldn't call the police. Cora had sent the help home, and her and her husband had fought catastrophically. The house was starting to gather dust, things out of place stayed out of place. One sink dripped for days. It was like time had stopped in the Gladstone household. But not stopped as in paused; stopped as in failed. Like a house at the end of the universe, destined to sit and fall apart. A scene of a crime, really. “I’d like to know your intentions, I suppose."

"...I'm not sure yet," I muttered. Suddenly, I didn't feel so hungry. So I left the bowl of cereal on the counter and walked past Cora into the living room. She followed behind me, until were were both sitting on opposite sides of the room. Me on the couch, her in the chair. This conversation felt too heavy for either of us. Why were we even having it...?

"I miss you." Those three words broke a silence of some seconds that had stretched into feeling like years. And that's what this was all about, really; longing, wistful, aching... missing. Cora had pinned her life on a plan built on rotting foundations, and now her house had fallen into the mud below and she felt like drowning was the only way forward.

"...I miss you too," I admitted. "I... I don't think I ever realized before how unhappy I was... and now..." I crossed my arms and looked away. None of this solved anything. None of it made it any better...

"I hurt you. I broke my promise. You put your trust in me to make your decisions and to keep you safe. And I didn't - I kept you safe from everything outside these walls but let myself be the thing that hurt you instead. I can't imagine how... betrayed... you must be feeling. How disappointed in me."

I nodded. She hit the nail right on the head. "I feel... lost," I muttered. "I feel like I never really knew anything. And I faked it, you know? And then you came along, and you didn't even care. You told me I didn't have to fake it. And I would be okay. And now... now I don't know how to fake it anymore. And I'm not okay..."

Helping her now felt like something that Cora had no right to do, but with what might be their final conversation, what did she have to lose? She owed Natalie so much for what she'd put her through.

"I wanted to help you the moment I first saw you,” Cora admitted, looking down at her hands. The room kept distance between them. "You never have to fake anything anymore, Natalie. There's so much.... so much love and passion inside of you, that I don't think you ever let anybody see before me. You'd be happy just to make me happy, you'd draw little doodles at work for me when I'd have to cancel lunch because things came up and you knew I was stressed." Minutia.

"You've got this fire inside of you, that anybody would be lucky to even know about, let alone get to see. And you showed me that flame, that... purity. And all you asked for in return... was that I never let the wind in. I could keep you safe from decisions, Nattie, I would for the rest of your life if I was given the chance. But all those decisions were doing was clouding what you always had inside of you - this perfect, burning, innocent, sweet... spark of love."

I couldn't cry. I knew if I started to cry, I'd run to her. I would need her. And I couldn't need her. So I closed my eyes and willed my tears away. "I know why you did what you did... I know you were scared and you just wanted to show me how great things could be, and if you didn't, maybe I'd never know. And I appreciate it. I do. I just... I was so scared all the time. And you did that to me. I don't... I don't know how to... to make sense of that. Tell me how to make sense of it..." Maybe she could. Maybe she could just do that thing she did, where she always had the right answers, even if I didn't understand it.

"Your life was an impossible paradox, Nattie my darling. You were always so scared, that the only way to truly feel anything else was to surrender everything to someone else. But you were too scared to do that. Too scared to not be scared. Enter me. The woman who would show you by force what it could be like to not be scared, to be happy and free. But the price to pay for breaking your paradox... is to lose you."

"Poetic," I laughed, wiping my eyes. Fuck, please don't cry... "I don't know what I'm going to do without you... I don't want to live my life like yesterday. I miss it, and I miss you, and..." I shook my head and wiped my eyes again. No, no, no... "I'm scared of being scared again..."

"Then come to me, darling. Come to me of your own free will, of your own decision.” Cora's time to cry. "And I'll make sure it's the last decision you ever need to make. I'll be honest with you, and I'll have no fear about it. Please... please if you ache as badly as I do, if you long as deeply as I do... if..." She stopped short of it: saying anything else would be manipulative. "I love you."

I shook my head and tears slid down my cheeks. Damnit, damnit, damnit... "Nuh uh... you make my decisions, remember? You do..." So the answer was obvious, wasn't it? I nodded my head and took a deep breath.

"You decide what's best for me... and I'll believe you..."

It was an answer a long time coming, but one that she gave instantly; an answer she should have given all that time ago when they'd first met.

"I don't think you should be with me. That's what I'm deciding for you, darling." Her chest ached. There was no game here, no longer goal, no ending strategy. "You know how to be happy now, and there's no way I deserve to see that flower blossom, not after everything I did."

I shook my head and wiped new tears from my eyes. "No..."

"I'm so sorry," Cora cried.

But I said it again, with more certainty. "No."

"Nattie--"

"No, no, no. You said. You said I can say no to any decision you make. But that the consequences fall on me. Remember? Remember, you said that! Well, I'm saying no, and I'm taking the consequences!" I fumbled to my feet and looked at Cora with all the conviction I could muster. "Now you gotta make me stop crying, that's what Mommies do..."

Cora dithered on this - mentally, at least - but her body acted far beyond the simple quibbles of emotional conflict. She stood up with almost inhuman speed and crossed the room in a half dozen steps, swapping Natalie up in her arms firmly and safely. She couldn't stand to see her cry, she couldn't, she could do it. Natalie was her baby girl, and... and that's what Mommies do.... they never let go. Ever.

I wrapped my arms around Mommy and laughed brightly, tears in my eyes. Sure, she did some awful things. And I've done awful things too. And we're both still learning. But as long as we're honest with each other, we can learn together. And Mr. Glad-- er... and Daddy too. And Sam. We can all be happy, if we care enough, if we try hard enough. If we want this badly enough. And truly, I did. I wanted this more than anything in the world.

When Cora finally set me back down, I looked up at her with wet eyes and a shy smile.

"My sheets are wet..."