Read Shhh...Mack's Side Online
Authors: Jettie Woodruff
“McKenzie! I have been worried sick about you.”
“Hey, Lila.”
“Are you okay? You’re back on your meds, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. A lot’s happened, Lila. I don’t know how to process it.”
“I’ll help you, but what is it that you are trying to process?”
Blowing out a puff of air, I grimaced when I moved my sore leg. “My little girl’s not dead. Kyle has had her all this time.”
“McKenzie. That’s wonderful. Did you see her?”
“Not yet, but he said I could. I have a picture. You should see her, Lila, she’s so cute, and healthy. Kyle says she didn’t even have to have any more surgeries.” I talked and talked and talked and talked. Lila listened with a, hmmm, or uh-huh, but didn’t interrupt. I spilled it all, knowing I’d never do it again. Nobody else would know where and what I had been through for the last few weeks. Lila would take it to her grave.
“What are you afraid of, McKenzie?” she asked after I’d disclosed everything I’d ever hid from her. Every lie I told from the time I could remember was revealed. Even the one time Gia and I stole sexy panties when we were eleven because our mothers said no. I felt lighter, like maybe there was hope.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid of where to go next.”
“And Gia? Will you see Gia?”
“I don’t know how I feel about Gia anymore. Gia’s not who I thought she was. I’m grateful that she came to the hospital and saved my baby. I’m grateful that she called Kyle, but I don’t know if I want her in my life. I just have a really hard time with the fact that this was all for revenge. I sent an innocent man to prison for her. I lied for her. I did horrific things for her.”
“But you also took her dad from her. You have to think about that. Think about how that must have felt for her.”
“I’m trying, and I do think about that, but she set out for revenge. She wanted to ruin me. I can understand now why she wanted to get back at Mr. Nichols, but not me. We were Gia and Mack. I loved her, Lila. I never intended to hurt her. I was sick. I was a sick little girl with adult feelings that I didn’t understand. I didn’t fall in love with her dad on purpose. He didn’t fall in love with me on purpose. If Gia loved me as much as she claimed, she wouldn’t have turned the other cheek when I needed her most.”
“You feel like Gia
abandoned you.”
“Yeah, exactly. She did.
She knew, Lila. She didn’t want to accept the fact that I wasn’t like her. Kyle was the only one who was ever there for me. I had to hide it from everyone else.”
“I want you to tell your mother that.”
“My mother?” Sometimes I thought Lila was more bipolar than me. She at least had some ADD going on.
“Yes. Talk to your mother and tell her how she made you feel less of a person because of your illness. You should never hide it from the people who care about you.
Promise me not to do that, McKenzie.”
She was right. My mother made me feel like a piece of shit because I wasn’t like
Gia, I didn’t want to be like Gia. I’d rather be sick.
“Thank you, Lila.”
“You’re welcome. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. I expect to hear from you after you meet her.”
“You will. Thank you.”
“Goodnight, McKenzie.”
“Night.”
I stared out the window, contemplating nothing but Abigail. I missed so much because I was afraid to know the truth. It was early, barely daylight, and a light drizzle coated the parking lot. I watched as employees came and went. That was about it. The parking lot was fairly empty, for now, anyway. A squad entered the restricted area, but I supposed it wasn’t an emergency. The lights were on, but no sirens and it wasn’t speeding.
“You’re awake?”
I turned to the sound of my mother’s voice. Here goes nothing. “Yeah, I guess I don’t really sleep much.”
“Never?”
Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped. Trying to hide the sarcasm, I replied, “Nope. Not since I was a little girl, Mom.”
“Sarcasm
noted.” She smiled. And fail. That wasn’t hidden at all.
“Where’s
Dad?”
“He had some calls to make. He’s back at the hotel. We’re going to Texas. I think you should come with us. The warm weather will do you some good.”
“Do
me
some good?”
“McKenzie. I’m trying here.”
“Trying what?”
“I’m trying to be here for you. Please let me.”
“You’re a little late. I’ve learned to do this on my own. You’ve never tried to be there for me. Why now?”
“How can you say that? Wasn’t I there every day for you during the trial? I got you help for, for…”
“It’s called Bipolar Disorder, Mom. You dropped me off to a psychiatrist for an hour once a week. Do you even know what is wrong with me? There’s a broad spectrum of Bipolar Disorder. Manifestations of mild depression to psychosis. I’m the lucky one. I’ve never had the depression part of it. I got the insight, the drive, the energy.
“
I’m a walking fucking time bomb most of the time. You wouldn’t know that because you never saw it. You never saw me pacing the floor when I was ten or twelve or sixteen. Do you know why, Mom? Because of your fucking image and the goddamn fucking Edwards next door. You were too afraid of Melanie or Gia finding out that something was wrong with your perfect little girl.”
“McKenzie. I think you should calm down. Should I get the doctor?” the nurse interrupted
, looking at my mom.
“I’m standing right here. Why would you ask her? Ask me. She doesn’t know whether or not I need a doctor. She doesn’t really understand what’
s wrong with me. You shouldn’t put that on her. She doesn’t know,” I spouted, ranting like a lunatic with flailing arms.
“We’re fine,” my mother
assured her. She nodded and left us alone.
“McKenzie. Sit down.”
“Yeah, I don’t really do that either,” I snorted, crossing my arms and ankles on the windowsill.
“I didn’t know how, McKenzie. I couldn’t stand to watch this again. I handled it the best way I knew how.”
“What do you mean again?”
“I should have told you.”
“Mom?”
“Your dad’s not your dad. Your dad hung himself in
our bathroom.”
I sat down. “What?”
“I met your dad in college.”
“My
real dad or Mark, the one I’ve been calling Dad for as long as I can remember?” You have got to be flipping kidding me. How many more lies have been shushed? I was right all along. I was never who I thought I was because it was a lie. It was all one big lie.
“Both
, really. Mark and I broke up after college. Your real dad and I dated for seven months before he killed himself. I was five months pregnant with you.”
“He was bipolar,” I said
, more of a statement than a question. Bipolar Disorder has a genetic component. It’s hereditary. This explained so much.
“I’m sorry, McKenzie.”
“My dad’s not my dad.”
“He’s still your dad. He’s always been your dad.”
“Has he?”
“He tried.”
“No he didn’t. He worked. He was never my dad. Had I known this, I would have never given him that title.”
“McKenzie, I did all I knew to do.”
“You did nothing. You made me feel like there was something wrong with me, like I was a menace to society. You want to know who was there for me, Mom? Do you want to know who was up with me when I was pacing the floor like a maniac in my room at three in the morning, scared to death of the wind chimes? It was Kyle. Kyle stayed up with me, talking to me on the phone while standing in his office window. He talked me down. Not you. You never helped me. You told me to go to bed, and stop it. I couldn’t fucking stop it.”
E
xpressing a scornful humph, my mother tried to keep up. “What are you talking about? Kyle knew about this?”
Taking a deep breath, I let it out. It was the only way. “Kyle and I have been lovers since I was sixteen. This is Abigail. I had his baby,” I said handing over the photo. She stared at it
in complete shock and consternation. Her brown eyes were the same as mine. Her dark hair and light skin was the same as mine. The rest of her features were that of an undeniable Edwards. Her long eyelashes, the high cheekbones, the pouty lips. They belonged to Kyle.
“You kept this from me? How? I didn’t even know you were in touch with any of them. Melanie? What about Melanie?”
“I wasn’t in touch with any of them. I hooked up with Kyle the last time I came home for Christmas. Abigail was born three months premature. I thought she died. I didn’t know he had her until yesterday.”
“Gia? Does she know?”
“Gia’s always known.”
“I’m flabbergasted. How could she be okay with this?”
“She wasn’t okay with it. She just hid it very well. She hates me for it. I mean, come on. I was doing her dad.”
“Not really…”
“Great. Really, Mom? What? Tell me. Tell me all the lies. Let’s get it out right now,” I yelled.
“I’m not sure this is good for you. Maybe we
should talk about it later. Oh my god, McKenzie. You have a baby. How could I not know this?”
“Because you didn’t care enough to find out, and we’re experts at lying. Tell me.”
“I shouldn’t. It isn’t my place.”
“You really think I’m too weak to know? I’m a lot stronger than you think. I’ve had a lot to deal with on my own. I can handle it.”
“Kyle isn’t Gia’s dad, either.”
“Really? You’re going to go there? Why? Look at this, Mom. Look at her. She looks just like Gia did. She’s an Edwards, Gia’s an Edwards.”
“I never said she wasn’t an Edwards, just not Kyle Edwards’.”
I could feel the look of confusion on my face. “What do you mean?”
“Gia’s dad is doing life in prison for killing her mother.”
“But Melanie is her mom.”
“No she isn’t. Her mother’s dead. She is an Edwards, however. Jerod Edwards. Uncle Jerod. Gia was three months old when she came to live with Melanie and Kyle.”
Gia’s life was a lie
, too. “But I’ve never heard of a Jerod, ever.”
“That was the deal Melanie made when she agreed to adopt her. Gianna was never to find out. You can’t tell her, McKenzie. There’s no point in it now. Let it go.”
I felt sick. Repulsed. Gia and I were both products of fucked up parents.
“I need to lay down for a while,” I stressed. I was going to fall down if I didn’t.
“Will you please think about coming to Texas with your dad and me?”
“He’s not my dad.”
“For whatever it’s worth, McKenzie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. If I could go back and do it over again, I would. I love you so much.”
“Yeah.” I had no words. My plan to drop the enormous bo
mb in my mother’s lap just backfired. I was left holding the aftermath.
“Have you seen her?” My mom asked, handing me back the photo.
I shook my head, unable to speak. She kissed my forehead and told me she would be back later. I nodded. I may never be able to speak again. I should call Lila. No. I couldn’t talk. Sliding down in my bed, I stared at the white wall blankly. I didn’t feel. I didn’t think. This was a manic part of my disease that I needed. My brain knew when enough was too much. This only happened a few times throughout my life. The night Kyle took my virginity, the night we went to Mr. Nichols house, the day he was sentenced, the day Abigail was born, the first night I was at the asylum, and now this. Welcoming the silence in my mind, my eyes dried from being opened. I blinked, wishing I could cry.
I wished
I could just cry like normal people. Even normal, bipolar people cried. I didn’t have that emotion. I couldn’t cry. No matter how hurt and confused I was, I couldn’t cry. This emotion was the next best thing. At least my mind was at rest. Sort of.
I watched the clock on the cable box below the television
turn every minute. It started at 7:03 am and went until 9:19 am. Blank. Nothing. No thinking. Just minutes. That’s it. Once, around eight, my mind started reflecting on the number eight. It stopped when I got to crazy eight. I didn’t want to be crazy anymore. I didn’t want to be, period. The only problem with that was Cara. No. No. Not Cara. Abigail. I couldn’t check out. I wanted to know her.
“Good morning. How are you feeling this morning?” the doctor with the not so long hand asked, sounding way too cheerful for my somber mood.
“Better. Can I leave?”
“I hope so. Let’s take a look at your leg.”
Sliding the thin sheet down, I winced when he removed the wrap. Gross. That looked bad. The cut was at least nine inches long, clear down the inside of my leg.
“Ah
. Much better. We’re going to keep you on the antibiotic for two weeks. One of the medications your physiatrist wants you on weakens the strength. We’ll keep you on it for two weeks just to be safe. You can shower, just don’t emerge yourself in a tub. Apply a clean bandage twice a day, and you’re going to need to set up an appointment to have the stitches removed in about a week. Do you have any questions before we yank this IV out of your arm?”
No words. I shook my head.
“Great. I’m going to sign your release papers, and as soon as you have some lunch, you can go. You take care, okay?”
I shook his hand and nodded, seeing Kyle over his shoulder. The doctor left and the nurse cleaned the incision and bandaged my leg
with fresh gauze. Kyle and I stared at each other while she hurriedly finished.
“How are you?” he asked when she left.
“Where is she?”
“She’s with Gianna.”
I didn’t like that. I didn’t want my baby around Gianna. “Go get her.”
“Let’s talk.”
“Yeah, Kyle. Let’s talk.”
“Kenzie? You okay?”
“Not a whole lot, Kyle. It seems that my life is nothing but a lie. How about yours. How much of your life has been a lie, Kyle?”
“McKenzie, what are you talking about?”
“My mom was here bright and early. I told her about Abigail,” I said, sliding out of bed. I needed to be standing. I needed to pace to keep from rocking. I didn’t want him to see that. I was getting my baby back. One way or another. Even if we had to go live at the haunted asylum and bathe in the stream. She was mine. I was taking her.
“You did? How did it go?”
“Not like I thought it would. You see, all these years of me thinking I was fucking Gia’s dad turned out to be nothing but a lie. Of course, you already know that, right?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You know what else? Mark Perry’s not my dad, either. Of course, you already know that too, huh, Kyle?”
“I think you should calm down, Mack. This isn’t good for you.”
“Not good for me? Not good for me? Lies. That’s what’s not good for me, Kyle. I’m sick of all the lies. All the secrets. All the goddamn blatant lies. What else don’t I know? Are there any more, Kyle? Tell me. Let’s get it out, lay them out, right here,” I suggested, spreading my imaginary blanket with my arms. He looked away. He no doubt looked away. There were more. I sensed it.
“You know what? Just forget it. I want to see my daughter.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea yet. I don’t want you to scare her.”