Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Four

Jasmine

 

 

One week before school, Grandma calls me to come to visit her at the retirement home. I wish I could bring Dad to visit, but traveling for him is too difficult. I tell her I’ll meet her for lunch and bring Chinese food—her favorite.

I brought Dad into the kitchen so I could spend some time with him before leaving to visit her when Mom stumbles in. From the look on her face, I know she’s heard my conversation with Dad.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she slurs.

I look at Dad, wishing she would avoid subjecting him to her behavior. I can handle the barrage of insults she throws at me daily, but he shouldn’t have to deal with this − he already deals with enough.

“I’m going to see Grandma.” My voice is monotone, knowing she’s been eavesdropping.

“You can’t go. You have things to do,” she spits with venom.

“Like what?” I challenge.

The question remains unanswered for several seconds.

“You will do what I tell you, you little bitch.”

“Mom, I’m going to see her whether you like it or not,” I inform her, rinsing out the dishes I used.

“No, you will not!” Her voice grows louder as she grabs my bad arm and jerks it with force. My wrist bones are weak, so when she snatches my arm, the glass bowl slips from my fingers, falling to the floor—shattering into pieces.

“AAHHH,” I yell as I pull my wrist free, trying to rub the pain away.

I glance at my dad, whose eyes look angry. I know he wants to help, but the only thing he could do would be to divorce her. They have despised each other for so long. I’m surprised he didn’t do it years ago.

“Now see what you’ve done! Clean up this mess!” she yells as she storms out.

He gives me a sympathetic look, which I choose to ignore. Instead, I turn to clean up the glass.

I can hardly contain my urgency to get out of this house for a few hours, and I couldn’t be more ecstatic about school. I’ll be out most of the day and away from her.

I reach for the glass pendant I wear around my neck. It contains swirls of green and gold flecks from Jace’s ashes. I wrap my fingers around it, letting my thumb caress the soft surface as I send a silent wish to him.

I wish you were still here with me.

My throat tightens, and I drop the pendent before I burst into tears.

“Dad, I’m taking off to Grandma’s now. I love you, and I promise to be back soon to tell you all about the visit.” Then I kiss his forehead. He blinks once, telling me I love you. I give him a smile, then I am out the door.

The drive to Grandma’s is calming. Green Hill Retirement Community is in the country, surrounded by pine trees and the smell of the forest. When I arrive, Grandma is waiting for me in the lobby; a gigantic grin spreads across her face, but her smile slips when she takes me in.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Her voice is soothing and concerned.

I force a smile on my face and say, “Nothing. I come bearing gifts.” I hold the bag of Chinese food up, changing the subject.

My grandma understands well enough to know that I would rather talk about something else than what is bothering me, so she nods and leads the way into the cafeteria. She chooses our usual spot next to a pair of vast windows that open like suicide doors, letting in the clean mountain air. This is one benefit of living in Oakboro, Oregon − there are mountains and pines everywhere. The scenery here is breathtaking, and the smells are clean and rejuvenating.

I sit down and pull out our rice and almond chicken, which is what we both love, and I place a bottled water next to her food.

“What, no soda?” she asks.

I smile at her. She is one of the few people who can get a genuine smile out of me these days.

“You know you shouldn’t be drinking soda.”

She waves me off with a flick of her wrist and pops open her water. I open mine as well, taking a drink to hide the smirk on my face.

“So, why were you so upset when you came in, Jazzy?” This is her nickname for me, and I only tolerate the name from her, since she’s called me by it for as long as I can remember. She reads me like a book and knows what my problem is. “So, I assume it’s your mom again, dear?”

“Why doesn’t Dad just get a divorce? I know he used to love her, but I know he doesn’t anymore.” I pause for a minute. She must sense that I’m not finished, because she waits for me to continue.

“She’s so mean, and it’s every day, Grandma, not just occasionally. I don’t understand why she dislikes me so much. What have I ever done to her to make her so hateful?” Had I had this conversation with her before the accident, I would be a blubbering mess by this point, but now my emotions are locked down like Fort Knox.

She shakes her head. “Don’t blame yourself, darling, you are not at fault. She’s crazy with her self-worth issues, taking them out on you because there is no one else for her to do it to. I mean, how can she not love a face like this?” She reaches over and touches my cheek. “She would have to be crazy.”

A sad smile stretches my lips. I know she’s right, yet I can’t help but wish that my mom loved me as a mom should… Justlike she loved Jace.

“I love you too, Grandma,” I tell her slowly, wanting her to hear the words. You never know how much time you have with each person in your life, so I’m making it count.

“Listen, Jazzy,” she says in a rather cheery voice. “I have a gift for you. I don’t want you to tell your mom—she’ll take it away before you use it.”

She hands me an envelope.

I open it and peer inside to see stacks of bills staring back at me.

“Grandma, I can’t take this.” My eyes are wild as I look at her. Why on earth would she give me this kind of money?

She laughs, shaking herself around in her chair. “Of course I can. It’s my money, dear.”

“I know that, Grandma, but what is this for? Why are you giving this to me?” I gesture to the envelope as I talk.

Her knowing smile is still wide when she answers. “I know you haven’t been able to buy any new clothes since the accident.” She pauses, knowing I hate to hear that word.

I immediately think of Jace and grab my pendent, but she continues.

“I thought it would be nice for you to get some new things that fit you. You’ve lost so much weight.”

I let her words sink in, and she’s right. My clothes do just hang off me, like I’m wearing boy’s clothes. I’ve lost about twenty pounds, more muscle than fat. I’ve never been fat, but now I’m self-conscious about being too skinny. I’m on an “eat everything” diet to gain the weight back, and after a few weeks, it is noticeable.

“Thank you, Grandma,” I concede, instead of arguing. The truth is, I could use some new clothes, but one-thousand dollars? That is more than just new clothes.

My mom’s passed out when I return home, so I expect to have a few hours to myself before the binge drinking and pill-popping continue. I walk into the other room to check on Dad, who is also sleeping. The nurse’s chart says he’s been asleep for half an hour, so I know he won’t be awake for a couple more hours, at least.

Climbing the stairs to my room, I toss myself onto my bed and pick up my iPod to listen to my playlist. My dad and I used to listen to it all the time, but now that my mom has control of the house, she walks in and shuts it off ninety percent of the time. If I protest, it only encourages the knock-down, drag-out arguments, so I let it slide… It’s not worth the fight.

I close my eyes and listen to Roxette’s Must Have Been Love, while I cradle my pendent in my fingers, and think about all the people I wish I still had in my life as I fall asleep.