Page 124 of Damnation
“Oh, please. No, no way.” She chuckles.
I look up at my friend. “Yes, actually, I will end up exactly like her. Disappointed and cynical.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not going to be like her at all. You’re going to find someone who will love you and make you happy the way you deserve. Or maybe you won’t find someone. I mean, whoever said you need a man by your side to be happy? You’ll find your true happiness here”—she presses her hand against my heart—“on the inside.”
I feel a lump in my throat. “But that’s my point; I’m not sure I can do that anymore. The problem isn’t just Thomas; it’s me. Everything has been bad for too long now. I may be a good student, but I don’t have any plans for the future, while everyone around me has a clear path they’re on. Look at you; you’re continuing your criminology studies while you work with your father. My entire family has turned their backs on me. With men, I do nothing but screw up… I feel like I’ve lost myself, and I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did happen, and now I don’t know how to find myself again.”
“You do know. Your head knows; it’s your heart that’s refusing to see. Stop everything for a minute. Focus on that moment, the moment when you lost the most important thing. The moment when you felt the earth go out from under your feet. Focus on that, and then go from there. Reconstruct your life from the pieces left behind, and you’ll find yourself again, you’ll see.”
Her words touch something deep inside me. I ruminate over them for the rest of the night, while Tiffany gives me a warm hug goodbye, when before leaving she suggests that I come back to class this week,our last week before the holidays. I think on her words in the shower and when I lie in bed. I think about them for hours, until I watch the first streaks of dawn appear. Finally, it’s clear to me. It is perfectly clear to me where I need to go to start over.
The next morning, I wake up with a determination and motivation that I thought I’d lost forever. I have a goal in mind, but I plan to go after it only once I’ve discharged all of my responsibilities. Specifically, passing the exams required to move on to the next semester.
I force myself to go to every class all week, and I realize with no small amount of pain that what Tiffany told me about Thomas is true. He’s withdrawn from all our shared courses. Alex, on the other hand, is always waiting for me on campus, and he does everything he can to make sure I’m okay. We don’t have much time to spend together, however, because he finishes his exams two days before me and leaves immediately for New York to celebrate Stella’s birthday.
***
On Saturday morning, after having taken my last exam (philosophy), I decide I’m not going to waste any more time, and spring into action. I jump out of bed. I put on jeans, a sweatshirt, my Converse, and a heavy jacket. On autopilot, I grab an elastic band to tie up my hair, but feeling it between my fingers, I remember that I’ve cut my hair, and I feel almost sorry. For the first time, I get the slightest twinge of nostalgia for my very thick, very long hair.
I get my largest duffel bag out of the closet and start haphazardly stuffing clothes into it. I zip it shut. Then I get out my wallet and check that I have enough cash. I also take a quick look at my ID and travel documents, making sure nothing’s expired. Then I put on my woolen hat and walk out of my apartment.
I move hastily through the halls of the student dorm, fully aware that I look like I’m on the run. Fortunately, it’s seven forty-five in the morning and practically no one else is around. I call an Uber to take me off campus and straight tohisold house. The one where Mrs. Gormannow lives, an elderly widow famous in the neighborhood for her tasty lemon meringue pies.
When we stop in front of the house, I feel a chill remembering the last time that I was here. I remember feeling unwanted, almost like an intruder.
My stomach is in knots as I ring the doorbell, and a few moments later, Mrs. Gorman opens the door. Her hair, pulled back with a clip, is even whiter than it was the last time I saw her. “Hi, Mrs. Gorman, do you remember me?”
When Mrs. Gorman bought this house three years ago, I visited her every now and then. She doesn’t have any children, and her husband’s dead, so I felt bad that she spent so much time alone. But after I started college, my visits unfortunately got fewer and farther between. I feel a little guilty showing up here after a year and a half just to pry some information out of her.
“Oh, do I remember!” she says enthusiastically, peering at me through the glasses balanced on the tip of her nose. “How could I forget those big gray eyes? Come in, dear, come in.” She waves me inside and forces me to sit down at a kitchen table laden down with cookies and breakfast sweets. I must have interrupted her.
“I know it’s really early. I hope I didn’t disturb you, Mrs. Gorman,” I say, taking off my hat.
“Of course you didn’t! And, for goodness’ sake, call me by my first name.” She grabs the coffee pot and pours its contents into a mug before handing it to me. “Black, no sugar, am I remembering right?”
“You remember perfectly, Dorothy. Thanks, I really needed this.” I smile at her before taking a long sip.
She sits down next to me and grabs some shortbread cookies, putting them on a napkin and sliding it under my nose. My stomach is locked up tight, but I know she’d feel bad if I don’t at least try one. So I force myself to take a bite.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You’ve become a young lady.” She tenderly touches my cheek with the back of her wrinkled hand. “Are you doing well?”
“Yes, thanks,” I lie, chewing on my lip. If I recounted some of the recent events of my life…poor woman, she’d probably have a heart attack.
She gives me a careful once-over; then her eyes land on my bag, and her forehead creases in a frown. “Are you going somewhere?”
I lower my gaze to the bag as well. “Sort of.”
“Aren’t you in school? You’re not going to tell me you’ve dropped out, are you?”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry, Dorothy. I took my last exam yesterday, and today is the first day of winter break.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. And where are you headed?”
It takes me a moment to answer because a lump is blocking my throat. I swallow the last bit of cookie, dab the corners of my mouth, and say, “To Montana.” I swallow before adding: “I want to find my dad.”
The first few times I came to visit Dorothy, I’d told her about the separation, about Bethany and my father’s baby. I explained how Bethany hated me so much that she didn’t want my father to have anything to do with me. I only found out they were moving by pure chance. My father and I hadn’t talked for a while—little by little, he stopped calling and quit taking my calls. But sometimes, on my way home, I would walk past their driveway, just to feel a little closer to him. One afternoon when I was doing just that, I saw a sign on their lawn with the words FOR SALE printed on it. I remember feeling completely devastated. I ran to the door, howling like a maniac, looking for my father.
But it was Bethany who opened the door and told me about their imminent move to Montana. I was so shocked and angry that I just stormed away. I didn’t understand how my father could possibly have made such a huge decision without even telling me. Sometime later, I went back to ring the doorbell again, hoping that I was wrong. But it was Dorothy who appeared in the doorway, and my father really was gone. He left me alone with my mother, to live a life without him. He, who had always been my fixed point, my anchor, was abandoning me with an ease that completely felled me. Did I really matter so little? Iburst into tears on the porch, and Dorothy invited me into her home for the first time.
