Chapter Thirty-Seven
-- May, 1986
Moody Blues – “Your Wildest Dreams”
In the weeks and months after William’s death, Sandra seemed to circle the drain. In an effort to feel nothing, she had doubled her pill intake. This resulted in her nodding off more than once in the middle of dinner and accidentally drooling during a party. It got so bad that her children finally came together to throw her an intervention.
They decided to ambush her after a day at the knitting store. She walked into her newly bought condo to find all her kids staring at her. They guided her into an armchair and one-by-one sat across from her to share their grievances. She was ornery from the start.
“What the hell is this?! Why are you jumping ugly on me?”
“Mom, no one is attacking you!” Lynn insisted.
“That’s what it feels like!”
“We know you miss Daddy.”
“You don’t know anything! I know what you all think! You think that I should have taken better care of him!”
“None of us think that!” Janet said, going to her mother’s side.
“Yes, you do! You’re punishing me!”
“We’re not! We’re worried about you!” Lynn practically shouted.
“I have it under control, I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help--”
“Mom...” Bill’s voice cut through everything. He’d been silent thus far. Sandra looked up when she heard him speak.
“This may be hypocritical of me...” he said. “But I think you have a problem.”
Sandra opened her mouth to yell at her oldest, but in the end, she said nothing. This, more than anything, was the reason she agreed to go to rehab.
The facility was nearby in Morristown. It was close enough that her kids could visit her on the weekends. They even came to family night, a cathartic evening of patients apologizing to their loved ones. Although Sandra participated, she later thought that most of the other people on her floor had overshared.
Despite this, she began to get better. And when she was released twenty-three days later, she never relapsed again. The doctors told her that her family needed her now more than ever and Sandra rose to the occasion.
But she had never seen her son so depressed. Sure, Bill walked around under a grey cloud most days, but nothing was as bad as this. After his father had passed, Bill began to shut himself away from the world, refusing to take phone calls or see anybody. He had stopped showering, wearing the same pair of pants for weeks, even to work. Janet had tried to talk some sense into him, but when she knocked on his apartment door, he flat out refused to answer. His car was in the driveway, he just wasn’t taking visitors.
But Sandra had no intention of giving up. By focusing on her son, she didn’t have to deal with missing her husband. She decided to throw a backyard barbeque at Kevin and Lynn’s. She didn’t so much “ask them” as she did tell them that a barbeque would be taking place on Sunday. They were welcome to attend if they were in town.
On the day of, Sandra went over to Bill’s apartment and kept hammering on his door long after a normal person would have stopped. Finally, Bill ripped the door open, eyes bloodshot and hungover. “What?!” he screamed, before he saw it was his mother. “Oh, hi ma...”
Sandra pushed her way inside. “Don’t ‘hi mom’ me! The whole family’s been calling you for weeks!” She looked around at her son’s pigsty of an apartment. The carpet was covered in a thin layer of cigarette ash and the walls had a nicotine shine to them. There were dirty clothes lying about and a fetid smell to the air. Probably because of the row of mason jars with liquid in them. “Tell me that’s not urine,” Sandra said.
Bill squirmed awkwardly. “I wasn’t expecting company...”
She stifled a disgusted groan. “You need to hop in the shower and while you’re in there I’ll pick you out a nice outfit.”
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“I don’t want to go to church, ma.”
“Who said anything about church?”
“Then where are we going?”
“No, I’m not falling for that – if I tell you where we’re going, you’d find some way to get out of it. Now go!” she said smacking him on the behind, all business. Bill did as told.
Sandra began to clean briefly, then yelled out after him. “And make sure you shave!”
**
For a last-minute function, the barbecue was well-attended. Lynn pretended to host, buzzing around, picking up trash and refilling cups. She passed Maggie Birch, coked out in big sunglasses and a floppy hat, hiding from the sun. When she saw her, Janet marched over to her mother and quietly demanded to know why Maggie was there. Not knowing that Janet and Maggie were on the outs, Sandra had invited the girl.
“Well, just keep her away from me.” Janet said, digging into the spinach dip.
As she lifted the chip to her mouth her mother slapped it down. “Those are for your brother -- stop eating!”
The moment he arrived, Bill had sniffed out the one cooler of beer and pulled up a chair to be close to it. Seeing that her son wouldn’t be moving for the rest of the day, Sandra brought Beth to him. She was a mousy girl that Sandra had met in rehab whose parents weren’t around anymore. She had chipmunk teeth and ears they stuck out an unfortunate amount, but she was friendly enough and reasonably close to Bill’s age. Plus, Sandra felt sorry for her. “Bill, this is Beth. Beth? This is my son, Bill.”
Bill reluctantly rose from his lawn chair. He extended a hand, trying to be polite and get this over with for Sandra’s sake. “Hello.”
“Your mother has told me so much about you. She’s very proud of you.”
“Oh yeah -- about what?”
“She just... says you’re a great son.”
Bill nodded, at a loss for words.
Finally, Beth spoke. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Sure thing.” Bill said. He got another beer and sat back down.
Sandra led Beth away, noting “that went well!”
**
Over the next couple days, Bill had the sterling luck to run into Beth no less than four times. At the grocery store, her cart bumped into his. At the liquor store, she was coming in as Bill was coming out. He realized that his mother was probably to blame for leaking his location. He was always cordial when they saw each other, but never exactly friendly. Beth didn’t seem to notice, though. Any crumb that Bill was willing to give her, she would take.
On a particularly drunken night home alone, Bill answered a knock at his door to find Beth standing there. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I got the address from your mom.”
“Actually, I’m a little busy--” But Beth had already pushed her way inside. She took her pants and underwear off in one smooth motion, greeting Bill with one of the angriest bushes he had ever seen. But he hadn’t had sex in months. And it was either drink more and pass out or fall asleep after sex. The choice, it seemed, was already made.
Of what he could recall of the experience, Beth had been a horrible lover, a bewildering combination of cheap and lazy. Before he had blacked out, Bill made a mental note to never, ever call her again.
A few weeks later though, he was late for work. He opened the door to his apartment and found Beth about to knock. “Hi, Billy.” she said.
Bill responded, coolly. “Beth.” He moved past her down the stairs. “I’m late. Is it important?”
“No, not really.” She watched as Bill hurried off. “It’s just... I’m late too.”
Bill stopped halfway out the door to the parking lot. He turned around slowly. “What?”
“I’m blessed.”
Bill rushed back up the stairs. “Why'd you have to go and get knocked up, huh?! Now everyone's gonna see how ugly you are!”
Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Careful Bill, you aren’t the only boyfriend I have...”
“Then how do you even know the kid’s mine?”
She looked at him as if it was obvious. “Because you made love to me.”
Bill took a step back. “You’re crazy...”
A grave and serious look passed over Beth’s face. “Don’t ever...” she whispered threateningly, but trailed off. She forced a smile back onto her face. “Come feel the baby,” she said, grabbing his hand and putting it between her legs.
Bill immediately snatched his hand back, but a little too roughly. Beth was caught off balance and fell backwards down the stairs. He watched her awkward, stumbling descent. When she finally reached the bottom and lay there unmoving, he called out to her.
“You still pregnant?”
Beth slowly, angrily, got to her feet. “How dare you! No one puts their hands on me! Nobody! I'm gonna sue the hell outta you!”
“Go ahead! Who would believe you?!”
Beth wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth. “Oh, they will. When I tell them about all those times you raped me...”
“What?!” Bill stammered, incredulously.
“From now on I'm going to make your life a living hell...” She was halfway up the stairs again. And smiling. “Unless...”
Bill stared her down. “Unless what?”
**
Beth practically skipped out of the chapel. She was beaming, the prettiest bride she was physically capable of being. Beside her, Bill tried to keep up but was falling down drunk. She forced him to smile for pictures. It came off as a grimace.
Nearby, in a bridesmaid dress, Janet threw rice at the newlyweds as they made their way to a waiting limousine. Beth climbed in, waving to all her wonderful, new friends. She slid over so that Bill could join her. As Bill shut the door on his old life, he told the driver to just go.