Cheating to Survive (Fix It or Get Out) (17 page)

This year, she opted for a giant mermaid festival in their backyard. Heather ran to the stores on her lunch hour, buying various materials to create a mermaid lagoon. She stayed up late creating games like mermaid races where guests covered their legs in plastic bags. She drew three mermaids on a large piece of plywood with the heads cut out for the guests to take pictures behind. Their goodie-bags displayed ocean themes they could color while waiting for other guests to arrive. She decorated a beach scene on the cake. The seashell invitations were hand written and she stuffed the mermaid piñata with an abundance of chocolates.

Heather stayed awake until 1 a.m. preparing food for the adults and children. She woke early to clean the house and decorate the backyard. By the time the guests arrived, Heather’s eyes refused to focus and exhaustion roughened her words. The weather—a humid ninety-five degree day.

Children whizzed by her during the scavenger hunt and parents asked for everything from directions to the bathroom, to where they could change their baby’s diaper, to if she had any more cups and some even attempted to have a conversation with her. She made more sherbet punch and overheard one small child tell their mother they were hungry.

Heather searched for Lance who had slinked into the garage when the first doorbell rang. She made her way to the garage and found him with the four friends he invited, boasting about his recent promotion. “Can you help me with the food now?” A touch of sarcasm escaped her mouth as she pinned her sweat-drenched hair into a high ponytail.

She returned to the backyard in time to see a girl with long black hair knock a stack of napkins onto the grass. A stray breeze tossed them throughout the lawn, no one bothered to pick any of them up. Her parents perched themselves in the corner, chatting up a storm to their relatives. Victoria and Catherine were unable to attend due to work and a family wedding.

Heather reached down leaping from one airborne napkin to the next when Lance approached from behind. “What does everyone want to eat?”

“Hamburgers and hot dogs, that’s all I bought, I’m exhausted.” An orphaned napkin lifted and hovered in between them.

“Can you give me a list as to how many of each? How the hell am I supposed to know?” He bolted back to the garage as another mother approached. At least someone would help her.

“Hi,” she began, “do you have any ibuprofen? I have a terrible headache.” Her fake eyelashes blinked, her Coach bag hung from her wrist.

“Sure, come with me.” Heather trekked into the house, found the bottle and dispensed two pills into her hand. Cold water from the refrigerator filled the glass a few inches and then she handed it to her. The woman lobbed it back like a shot of scotch and then dumped it on the counter without thanking Heather. Lance burst in behind the woman as she sauntered away.

“Where’s my list? You ask me to cook and then don’t even help me. There’s gratitude for ya. Do you want me to cook or not?”

“Why don’t
you
ask everyone what they want, I’m a little busy. “

“Doing what? Drinking a glass of cold water while I sweat? Get me the list or I’m not cooking.” He strutted back to the garage again.

A toddler waddled into the kitchen with his pants around his ankles. “Can you help me wipe?”

“I don’t do boys,” she said.

Heather cleared the tables after lunch and tied the black lawn bag that overflowed on the deck. Gia tapped her mom on the shoulder and asked if they could do the piñata. “Let me just bring this bag to the curb, honey, give me a minute.” She carried the heavy bag to the front without letting it to drag on the floor.

She scurried back up the driveway and tried to remember where she had left the piñata. Lance’s friends gawked at her. The five of them watched her haul that freakin’ bag down their extensive driveway and not one of them got off their asses to help. Low chuckles erupted behind her.

There was something seriously wrong with her. When did she become his bitch? She spent the past three hours busting her ass for their daughter’s birthday. Why did she put up with this? Heather retained all her strength not to cause a scene, not in front of Gia, it was her day.

She snatched the stupid piñata, summoned the ungrateful guests to the front of the house, and then tossed the damn rope over the town’s oak tree.

Heather gritted her teeth and yanked on the rope. The giant mermaid head shot up too quickly and smashed into a high branch. The children watched in horror as the mermaids smiling faced scraped and tore, knocking a small dead branch to the ground.

“Oops, a little too high,” Heather said. A deranged, psychopathic cackle spewed from between her teeth.

She huffed out a growling breath, clenched her fists around the rope and then pivoted, greeting the children with a perfectly fake smile. Let the smashing begin.

****

“Want to go rock climbing with us?”

Heather turned towards the familiar voice. Silvatri and his partner Richard hovered like restless vultures. “I don’t know how.” Not to mention she was afraid of heights. The roller coaster rides her cousins forced her on when she was younger left their mark. She always dodged the portable rock climbing set-ups at carnivals and stuck to the games instead.

“It’s easy, I’ll show you.” His eyebrows lowered mischievously.

That didn’t help. Silvatri and Richard had climbed together for almost a year now.

But the limited summer days in New York would soon be over and she needed relief from her domestic prison.

Monday veered into Thursday before Heather had time to think this through. She made sure the girls were in their pajamas before she left them with Lance, knowing he’d give them a brusque order to get in bed without so much as removing his ass from the couch.

The growl of the Jeep’s engine caused her fluttering heart to pound into her ribcage and compress her lungs. Shallow breaths through her nose were all she could manage. Chest pain. Can’t breathe. A heart attack for sure. No, no, ridiculous. She wanted to kill those cousins of hers. Giant roller coasters, ones that fell straight down thousands of feet, okay maybe not thousands but hundreds. Ones that went backward, upside down.

The Great Adventure trip that Nicolo had planned to take her on popped into her head. The one they never went on. She would do this for him.

Heather pulled into the parking lot facing the rock climbing facility and her jaw plunged. She beheld two transparent doors, at least fifteen feet high and twelve feet wide, which provided her with full view of the place. Grey pillars of manmade rock soared thirty feet into the air, with additional full-length walls surrounding them. The chunks of rock the climbers gripped came in a variety of colors. Fluorescent strips of tape hung underneath each piece creating a rainbow of fear.

Nine thousand square feet of climbing loomed before her. Too large for air conditioning, they warned her about the muggy, stifling conditions. She had raked through piles of gym clothes and hopefully what she chose sufficed.

Athletic, muscular, yet slim patrons, the majority of which were men, hugged the walls. They dressed alike, each in monochrome T-shirts, beige or grey cropped soft-shell pants with cargo pockets. They had what appeared to be fanny packs around their waists, all of them in little elf shoes. The outfit she chose surfaced in her head. Shit. What a moron. What was she thinking?

Silvatri and Richard greeted Heather when she entered the overwhelming playground, and directed her to the front desk where she rented a harness and shoes. She stalled removing her jacket as long as possible, but after ten minutes of harness fastening and shoe strapping, their patience cracked.

Heather reluctantly stripped off her jacket and revealed her hot-pink spaghetti-strap tank top and tiny purple shorts. Shorts that her butt would clearly fall out of.

The two of them flung back in unison. They glanced at each other, then back at her. Their smiles twisted into wicked grins both trying to look elsewhere. Her eyes shot over to one of the only woman. She wore baggy black sweat pants and an army-green T-shirt. She slipped, fell a few feet and hung there swinging awkwardly from the rope. She squealed like a teenage girl and drew irritated glances her way. Definitely not a regular.

They ambled over to a center wall and then Heather watched Richard climb the towering structure with ease. Her knees quivered and she shifted her weight between both legs to hide it.

“There are different levels of difficulty,” Silvatri began. “The numbers on the tape tell you the degree. Different grades, therefore different routes. 5.0 is the easiest, although they don’t start that low here. The lowest I’ve seen I believe it 5.3, the highest about 5.15. The colors let you know which route to take, which holds to touch. You can only touch those colors.”

Richard climbed to the top and then slapped the uppermost part of the wall. He climbed well, but struggled on a few holds. He was climbing a 5.8.

The two of them switched places and Silvatri climbed the same wall. He quickly reached the top and then pumped his fist in contentment, a pretentious smile burned on his face. Heather knew she was next and suddenly wanted to fake an illness. She glanced around at other climbers doing equal climbs, if not harder.

Clambering up a loser 5.3, everyone pointing and laughing at her, put her in full panic mode. The woman in the black sweat pants continued to wail like a child. That would be her. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Silvatri. If these rock-climbing excursions worked out, she could spend more time with him. Lately, that’s all she wanted. He also promised a romp in her Jeep when the night was over.

When Silvatri fed the rope through her harness, her heart exploded. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Just nervous,” she peered into his eyes for reassurance.

“You must do the things you fear the most,” Silvatri said. “Give up what’s weighing you down.”

The message stung her.

He gave a tug on the rope and said, “Climb on.”

“Which one?” Heather scanned the array of colors.

“Don’t worry about the colors for now, just go.”

She grabbed the first hold with her right hand, glanced around, placed her foot on the largest foothold she could find and pulled herself up. She reached up with her left hand and continued to climb, careful not to slip like the sweatpants lady. One by one, disregarding the colors, the height, the ground, she focused on each grasp, and everything around her faded. The music and the conversations muted. Alone, free, strong, her muscles assisted her.

Heather reached the top and then peered down.

“Slap it,” Silvatri said.

She slapped the top and relaxed. When she landed, Silvatri high-fived her and Richard stood behind him smiling.

“Alright,” Silvatri said, “now let’s do a real climb.”

“Now?” she squealed like a mouse. “But I just went, it’s his turn.”

“Nope, you got here late. You’re a climb behind us. Plus that wasn’t really a climb.” Silvatri grabbed the belay device from her waist and yanked her to the left. He pointed to an orange strip of tape. It was a 5.5.

“I can’t do that.” She stepped back but he tugged at her again.

“Sure you can. You’re capable of much more than you think. Climb on.”

She floundered over to the wall with the small orange pieces of tape. The first finger hold was as small as a quarter.

“It’s still a beginner wall but on the high end,” he continued. “5.6 starts the intermediate level.”

She reached up with her right hand following the same routine that previously worked. She stepped onto a tilted foothold as her elf shoe slid off, then counted to three and hoisted herself up. She glimpsed back and forth at the available orange fragments and focused on the climb. Contemplations of her next move absorbed her thoughts. Halfway up, her palms filled with sweat and fingers slid off the slimy holds. She looked underneath her nails.

“That’s a combination of dirt, sweat and chalk,” Richard screamed up to her. “Gross, huh?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Silvatri cupped his hands over his mouth. “We’ll give you chalk the next time you go up. For now, wipe your hands on your pants, I mean shorts, if you can find them,” Silvatri snickered.

Both remarks brought fear back, her clear thinking gone. Silvatri was probably eyeing her ass and planning their late night activity. Her foot tumbled off another rock and sweat poured out. The higher she climbed the warmer it became and the lack of cool, clean air suffocated her.

Sweat drizzled down her face and neck, wet hair clung to it, mascara melted and smeared. Her forearms burned and she shook them wondering where all her strength went. Slimy chalk jammed under her nails and she covered her purple shorts in the muck, but a smile erupted when she stepped on that final foothold.

Heather reached the top, sensed the thumping from beneath her ribs. She whacked her slick hand over the dusty top ledge and then collapsed, threw her arms clumsily overhead, and moaned from the relief.

Silvatri loosened his grip and lowered her down, providing her with a little extra slack. She reached the ground and leaped into the air not allowing him to undo the rope from her harness.

“I did a 5.5!”

“The difference between fear and excitement is in your mind,” Silvatri said.

A sudden iciness hit her core. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to her, but it had been so long since she heard it. She pushed it out of her head and waited impatiently for the rope to be untied. He freed her and she soared off as if still in the sky. She glanced back to the top of the climb in amazement. “It always looks impossible and then, you do it.”

She spent the rest of the night learning techniques and completed 5.5’s and even a 5.6. It fascinated her. She conquered one of her fears. But a greater one still loomed.

Chapter 26
Catherine

Catherine’s block party brought anxiety instead of joy. She spent the morning preparing cranberry oatmeal cookies, a strawberry chiffon cake and homemade fruit ice pops. Her afternoon spent assembling tomato, mozzarella and basil skewers, black bean edamame burgers, shrimp spring rolls and prosciutto-wrapped mangos with gorgonzola cheese. Bentley and Colton played video games, Emily watched Lilo & Stitch for the hundredth time.