Darling Rose Gold(13)

By the time I was ten, I’d had ear and feeding tubes, tooth decay, and a shaved head. I needed a wheelchair. I was allergic to almost every food on the planet. I’d had cancer scares, brain damage scares, tuberculosis scares. I told Vinny I’d been weeks away from a heart catheterization, which wasn’t totally true. My doctor had rejected that idea as soon as it came out of Mom’s mouth. But by now Vinny was hanging on my every word.

I took a breath and continued. “How could I have known malnutrition was causing my hair to fall out and making it hard to breathe? How was I supposed to know the ear tubes and the allergies were all one hundred percent made up, all lies my mother told before I could even talk?” I thought of her betrayal for the thousandth time and let my eyes fill with tears, heard the pitch of my voice rise. “When you’re a kid, there are things you don’t question. This is your mom. This is your dad. Your name is Vinny. This is your birthday. When you turned fifteen, did you ever ask your parents if your birthday was really your birthday?”

A couple tears rolled down my cheeks. This was not at all the cool person I’d been hoping to be, but this version of me was even better, because this version of me was the one Vinny paid attention to.

He made a sympathetic face, like a nurse right after she stuck a needle in you. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say. It’s like Stockholm syndrome or a cult or something—impossible for people on the outside to understand the inside.”

I didn’t say anything, let an awkward silence fall between us. I wanted to eat another muffin, to show my teeth some more, but I thought I might throw up if I had another bite.

Vinny cleared his throat. “What about the doctors? You blame them? How could they not have known?”

I had this part memorized from the trial. “Doctors rely on the parents to understand a kid’s health. They assume the parent has the kid’s best interest at heart and is telling the truth. If any of my doctors got suspicious after a few months, we’d move to a new doctor’s office. I went to dozens of doctors all over the state.” I combed my fingers through my hair. “Mom told me we were moving on because the doctors weren’t smart enough to fix me.”

Vinny shifted in his seat. “So how’d you stop her?”

I started the chain of events that got Mom arrested by accident. I told Alex about Mom’s abuse not because I thought she’d call the cops, but because I wanted to impress her. Alex had boyfriends—plural— went to school in a big city, and majored in graphic design. She had fascinated me my entire life. All I’d wanted was to fascinate her once.

“I had to take action,” I said instead. “But I was too scared to do it by myself, so I went to the friend I mentioned earlier, and she helped me do the right thing.”

“Any chance you’d tell me your friend’s name?”

I shook my head. Alex would love the spotlight, but this was my story, not hers.

“Fair enough.”

Vinny and I talked about the trial. I told him what he would have already known from following the news: nobody from Deadwick would testify in defense of Mom. One of my old doctors came forward to say he suspected “something foul might be afoot.” But it was my testimony that sent her to prison.

The Deadwick Daily’s headline the next morning shouted JUDGE SAYS POISONOUS PATTY WATTS MUST PAY. Reporters said the jury’s deliberation was the quickest in the history of our county. Mom was found guilty of aggravated child abuse and sentenced to five years. She couldn’t contact me unless I said so. By now, she’d been in prison a few months. This was the longest we’d ever gone without talking.

I wanted to leave the café and get away from Vinny King. He was only interested in Rose Gold the Freak Show. Still, I answered the rest of his questions. Vinny was just the messenger. I needed him to get out my version of the truth. Without him, I had no money to fix my teeth. I could already see my blinding white smile. Strangers would return my grin instead of cringing.

My little trooper, she said.

“How do you think your ma got so—pardon my French—fucked up? Anything happen when she was a kid?” Vinny was enjoying himself now.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said.

I gazed out the coffee shop window. An icicle fell off the roof and shattered on the sidewalk.

Vinny watched me, his tongue making sucking noises against his teeth. I silently dared him to ask what I knew was coming next.

“Your ma sounds a little crazy. Do you ever feel kinda sorry for her?”

Every single day, I wanted to scream.

But people didn’t get excited by stories of forgiveness. They wanted bridges to burn. They wanted dramas that made their own lives feel normal. I was starting to get it.

I turned my head from the window to stare at Vinny. I imagined a falling icicle stabbing one of those baby blues. An ocular kebab.

“Not even a little bit,” I lied.





5





Patty


Rose Gold and I stand at the front door of my childhood home, my throat clutching a cry. I take Adam from her so she can search her purse for the house keys. Holding the baby—watching his little fingers and toes wiggle—calms me. I remember why I’m here.

Rose Gold sighs in frustration. She digs deeper into her purse. I sneak a peek around while I wait. To the right of the garage are the woods. When I was young, they went on for miles, but by the time I moved out, a strip mall had replaced half the trees.