Shake the Glitter Off

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“What’re you eating?”

I look up from my perch at the counter and smile when I see Cara standing in the kitchen doorway, wrapped up tightly in her robe. Her hair is brushed and hanging pin straight down her back but her eyes are still empty and haunted—something that frightens me every time I look at her. “Onion rings,” I answer simply, looking back down at the plate. “Do you want some?”

“No,” Cara slips onto the chair next to me and cups her face in her hands gently.

I pick up a small onion ring and tear it in two before dunking it in the mustard. The room is silent—a rare occurrence in the Godfrey household. But ever since Cara lost the baby, everyone has been walking around on pins and needles. There are a million things I want to say to her, to comfort her, to let her know that I’m here for her, but there’s also a part of me that’s terrified to talk to her. What if the wrong thing comes tumbling out of my mouth and that sets her off? I can’t be the one that loses her because of something stupid. But the biggest part of me just wants my best friend back because I’m absolutely petrified.

My mobile vibrates suddenly and we both jump at the sudden noise. I laugh guiltily before I pick it up and open the text message. It was from Bill, asking me if I thought pasta and salad would be a good choice for tomorrow night’s dinner. I text back a simple yes before placing my phone back down on the counter.

“Who was that?” Cara asks quietly, still staring down at the counter.

I pause, my mug halfway to my lips. “Bill,” I reply honestly, taking a deep drink of my hot chocolate. The spices I added earlier burn my nose as I inhale but the drink tastes so heavenly in my mouth.

Cara shifts in her seat and looks at me from the corner of her eye. “What is that awful stench?”

“What?” I ask curiously, turning so I can look at her. Was the medicine she was on throwing off her sense of smell?

She sniffs at the air a few times, her pale nose wrinkling up in disgust. “It smells like burnt chili.”

I freeze, my hand still wrapped around my steaming mug. “Oh…that would be my drink. I added some chili powder for flavoring.”

“In your hot chocolate?” Cara asks dubiously, looking me directly in the eye.

I squirm under her intense gaze and unconsciously push the drink away from me. “It’s got cinnamon in it, too.” I offer finally. My words sound weak even to my own ears and I cringe at the way Cara looks at me.

She stares directly into my eyes and though I fidget under her stare, I cannot find it in myself to break the connection. I can feel her taking in my puffy face and my swollen hands and slowly her eyes drift down to the pair of black sweats that are riding low on my hips. My stomach immediately feels a hundred times more noticeable and I tug at the white wife beater in an attempt to give off the illusion that it was just a bad angle.

Cara stares back down at the counter and with every second slipping by, I wonder if she's going to say anything. Finally she speaks, her voice low and shaking in the quiet room. In the distance, I can hear one of the dogs trotting across the marble in the front hallway and Rory shrieking at something in the upstairs nursery.

“Lily, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.” Her trembling fingers find a pencil and she rolls the thin cylinder between her palms absentmindedly. “Can you do that?”

I swallow harshly, feeling suddenly sick at her words. I know what’s coming. I’d have to be stupid to not see it coming. My tongue feels thick and awkward in my mouth but I manage to nod my head once in an answer to her question. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the intense wish that Bill was next to me, holding my hand and helping me get through this. But he’s halfway across the city and I’m all alone, completely defenseless as I wait for Cara to speak.

“Lily, are you pregnant?” She cuts right to the chase, her voice surprisingly calm and neutral.

My eyes sting ominously at her words and I blink furiously to keep the tears at bay. Instinctually, I reach out to grasp at her wrist—a desperate peace offering on my part.

But her fingers contract and the pencil snaps harshly in her grasp. “Answer me,” She demands, her voice back to trembling and frightening. “Answer the question, Lily. Are you pregnant?”

“Cara, I-I’m,” I begin stammering pathetically. The tears start to drip down my cheeks and I retract my hand back into my lap uselessly. “Cara, please.”

“Answer the fucking question, Lillian.” She screams, her eyes glinting angrily. “Answer me!”

I bow my head and stare at my clasped hands miserably, inhaling deeply before I answer. “Yes,” I whisper, my tears dripping into my lap. “But Cara, I never planned—I didn’t want for this to happen—your baby—it just happened and Bill and I are so scared and—“ I reach out imploringly, willing her to take my hand, to just let me know that it was okay.

But my hand grabs listlessly at the air as she shoves herself away from the counter so quickly that her chair topples over with a loud clatter. Her eyes are wild and chaotic, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggles to breath. My cousin, my best friend, is gone in that instant and all I can see before me is a desperate, ravaged woman and it terrifies me.

“Cara, please, I never meant for this to happen. You have to believe me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I-I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now but I-I just—god, I never meant for this to happen,” I sob uselessly, my voice crackling horribly.

“Don’t act like you know how I’m feeling right now.” She shrieks, her voice breaking. “You have no idea how I’m feeling right now. I just lost the one thing I wanted more than anything else in this world and you get into bed with the first guy who lays eyes on you here in Germany and you get pregnant without even trying. How dare you act like this isn’t your fault!”

“It is my fault,” I rush to put my thoughts into words. “It’s all my fault, I wasn’t responsible enough and I am owning up to that now, Cara. But please, don’t do this to me—to us. Ava wouldn’t want—“

“Don’t!” She screams at the top of her lungs. “Don’t you dare say my daughter’s name, you stupid whore! You have no right to—“

There’s a clattering down the stairs and I can hear Christoph’s hurried steps coming down the hall. He calls out to his wife and she glances back at the doorway just as he appears, his face confused and worried.

It was instantaneous. She turns so quickly, her hair whips around her face like a reddish halo and her hand flies through the air with an angry hiss. My cheek stings horribly and I let out a surprised shriek, my hands flying up to my smarting face as I stumble back into the refrigerator.

Christoph moves from the doorway and grabs Cara by the shoulders, pulling her back roughly. She struggles against him, her own face wet with tears. Her voice rises hysterically, every derogatory name she can think of directed at me.

But I can do nothing but stare weakly at my distraught cousin. The pain in my face is nothing to the anguish in my heart. I cradle my stinging cheek as I sink down to the floor, staring helplessly at the ground as Christoph attempts to drag her from the room. I don’t even take notice of my tears—all that runs through my head is Cara’s screams, of how easily the insults had tumbled from her lips, of the look of pure hatred in her eyes as her hand connected with my face.

“Let me go,” She demands, choking on her sobs. “Christoph, let me go!” He makes a move to drag her up the stairs but she wrenches her wrists from his grasp and turns back to me, her entire body rigid and defensive. “I hate you,” She announces harshly, her eyes boring into my own. “Get out of my house.”

Christoph grabs her by the waist and pulls him into her, calling for her to calm down, that it wasn’t good for her, but she brushes his words away easily as she walks past him. He starts after her before pausing and looking back at me. An anxious hand runs through his hair and he hesitates, torn between comforting me and going after his wife. He has no idea what’s brought her tantrum on and he’s caught in-between the both of us. “You don’t have to,” He begins before breaking off and shaking his head. His footsteps are hurried and frantic as he takes the steps upstairs two at a time.

I listen to a door slam upstairs before I crawl towards the island and use the counter to hoist myself up. I almost forget to grab my mobile before making my way up the set of back stairs and towards my room. I can hear Cara and Christoph shouting in their bedroom but I block it out as I enter my room and walk towards my bed, still trying to stop the tears from welling up.

I grab the first suitcase I touch and throw it open on the bed, dust flying from the suitcase’s four month stay under the bed frame. I’m on autopilot as I open a drawer at random and begin to pile things in messy, lopsided stacks in my bag. It takes me only moments to empty a few drawers into my bag before I move onto the bathroom and haphazardly throw everything on my sink into the remaining space.

My vision is clouded with tears as I push my phone charger into my bag and woodenly pull on the first pair of shoes I see. I stumble out of the closet, pulling a black hooded jacket that I had stolen from Bill over my shoulders, breathing heavily as I zip the bag shut and grab my purse off of the floor. I look like an absolute wreck and I know it, but all I want is to get out of here, to leave the shouting behind.

“Lily.”

I turn at the sound of the small, frightened voice, my insides clenching together painfully at the sight of Rory standing in my doorway, her eyes wide and terrified. Words escape me as I take in her wet cheeks and trembling body.

“Lily, where are you going?” She asks in a pitiful voice. “Mommy and Daddy are using their angry voices and I don’t like it.”

“Oh baby,” I drop to my knees and envelop her in a tight hug. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry you have to hear this,” I whisper into her hair as she wraps her tiny arms around my neck tightly. “Mommy and Daddy are just talking about something; I promise they’re okay.”

“Make them stop,” She whimpers, covering her ears. “Lily, please.”

A fresh wave of tears sweep over me as I pull away and survey the toddler in front of me. “I have to go now, Rory. I have to leave.”

“No,” She begins, her eyes widening at the prospect of being left alone in the middle of her parents’ shouting match. “I want to come with you.”

“You can’t, baby. You have to stay here with your parents,” I whisper, brushing away the tears on her eyelashes with the pads of my thumbs. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” She whispers, folding her tiny body against my own.

I hold her for a moment before an almighty crash is heard from the master bedroom and then silence. I pull away, unsteadily rising to my feet and take the first step towards my bedroom door when I hear Cara’s scream. It’s high-pitched and blood-curdling and it ends with her sobbing. And it’s all my fault. Everything is my fault.

“Rory, go to your bedroom and close the door,” I instruct firmly, picking up my bag and purse again. “Do you understand me?”

Rory nods and scampers towards her room. I wait for her door to click shut before I close my own door and rush down the stairs to the first floor. Cara’s sobs are the only thing I hear as I wrench open the front door and step out onto the porch.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I awkwardly step off the stoop and start to walk down the drive. My cheek is throbbing and as I walk, I start to cry all over again. This is not how I wanted to tell my family. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

I make it to the end of the street before I realize that I can’t very well just walk about Berlin aimlessly. I find my mobile in my purse and dial Bill’s mobile as I continue walking in the direction of his house, still sniffling pathetically.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hey you,” He greets me warmly.

“Bill,” I whisper in English, my eyes stinging again with tears. “Bill, I-I—“

“Where are you?” He asks immediately, transitioning easily into English and in the background, I can hear all of the talking die away. “Lillian, sweetheart, where are you?”

“I’m walking towards your house,” I cry, brushing at my eyes angrily. “Cara found out and she hates me and I don’t have a home anymore and—” I can’t walk any further. I sink down onto a bench and put my free hand over my face in a desperate attempt to shield my tears from prying eyes.

Bill makes a helpless noise, calling out to someone in the room. “Where are you?”

“I’m on a bench at the end of Cara’s street,” I sniffle, looking around for a street sign. I can’t see one and I’m suddenly furious with myself. “I can’t find a fucking sign; I don’t know where I am.” I mumble, hiccupping once as I use the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe at my tears.

“I’m on my way, Lily. Don’t move,” He instructs firmly. “I’m coming to pick you up.”

I manage to answer him through my tears before hanging up and using my fingertips to wipe at my face once again. My fingers are black from my eyeliner, so I bring my sleeve up to my face again and wipe off my ruined makeup the best I can. My breathing is shaky as I rise to my feet and lift up my bag again. I can’t stay here, not where people can watch me break down.

I begin to walk down the street again, my luggage awkward and unwieldy in my grasp. I can feel people looking at me and despite their curious stares, I hold my head up high as I march down the sidewalk as quickly as I can.

I spend only fifteen minutes staggering through the streets of Berlin when I spot a familiar black SUV come flying down the road towards me. The driver executes a rather graceful U-turn, earning several angry horns from other drivers. The Escalade stops next to me on the sidewalk and the passenger door flies open to reveal a distraught Bill.

He practically tumbles out of the car and latches onto me, his entire body shaking. He rains gentle kisses down in my hair and across my face, squeezing me gently into him. In the back of his throat, a strangled cry slips out and he can do nothing but hug me again to his chest.

I allow myself to collapse into him, my sobs deep and stormy. I barely register him easing my suitcase from my hand and pushing it into the passenger seat, along with my purse. He crawls into the backseat of the Escalade and pulls me into his lap before shutting the door tightly.

His arms wrap around me protectively and I’m finally safe, cradled into his neck. The car starts to move and I look up to see Tom watching me anxiously in the rearview mirror. His eyes are wide and confused as he meets my own swollen, blood-shot ones in the mirror.

I turn away to look at Bill, who is staring at me worriedly. A tiny gasp escapes him as he reaches up and touches my cheek lightly. A burst of pain blooms across my face and I pull away, inhaling sharply.

“What did you do to your face?” He asks quietly, gently tugging my hands away.

I swallow a fresh set of sobs, shuddering deeply. “It’s nothing.”

“Lily, you have a red handprint across your face,” Bill sounds horrified. “Who hit you?”

I duck down, my hair acting as a curtain to hide my shame from their knowing eyes. “Cara got upset, that’s all.”

His hands clench tightly and Bill glances up into the mirror to see that Tom is watching us carefully. A thousand words pass between them silently and so I slither off of Bill’s lap and huddle into myself, using the cool window as an icepack against my throbbing skin.

The streets of Berlin melt away and all I can see is Cara’s hurt face in my mind—the way her eyes filled with tears, how easily she had announced that she hated me. My face crumbles as my last resistance collapses and I can feel hot tears pooling up in my eyes again. They drip down my face slowly but I make no move to wipe them away.

I can only imagine what’s going on back at home and what’s going to happen in the next few days. Cara would no doubt call Aunt Alyce and tell her and I would have to answer that phone call, despite everything inside me that screamed no. I can already hear what everyone is going to say and no matter how often I tell myself that what they say doesn’t matter to me, I know it does.

I feel a cool touch on my cheek and I jump away from Bill’s fingers quickly. He smiles gently at me and uses his sleeve to wipe away the tears on my cheeks.

His own face is sad and tightened with worry as he once again pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms tightly around my trembling body. “It’s going to be okay.”

I can’t find the energy in me to remind him that he promised me only yesterday that everything was going to be okay. And now my best friend hates me and I’m homeless. Instead I lean against him and cry and all he can do is hold me close and wait for my tears to subside.