Somewhere in Neverland

“So are you gonna tell me why you’re here, or what?” I say over a dinner that neither one of us has touched. Her eyes haven’t left the checkered table cloth since we sat down almost half an hour ago and it’s worrying me that she’s been so quiet.

Slowly she raises her head and brings her blue eyes to meet mine. They’re red and puffy and she’s in desperate need of sleep.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear it, but I can infer what she said.

“Begin with how you got here. Why Chicago?”

She shakes her head and laughs lightly. “I closed my eyes and pointed at the board. I didn’t care where I ended up; I just needed off the island.”

“But why?” I ask, still not understanding her reasoning behind this entire trip. I mean, I understand her having a mental breakdown and running away. Sometimes I wish I had been brave enough to run back to Baltimore, but there was always something holding me back.

“I’m so sick of everything at home. I can’t stand it there; I fucking hate Hawaii. I just wanted to go back home and have everything be the same as it was before we moved,” By home, she’s referring to Palo Alto, the setting of the majority of her adolescence.

“That’s not why you ran, Eliza,” I say, shaking my head. “If that was the real reason, you would’ve run off to California. Why’d you come here, where you have nothing?”

Her lip quivers and she buries her face in her palms. She’s shaking and I know she’s trying to pull herself together enough to show her face to me, but she’s struggling.

“Oh, god!” Her voice cracks and I reach across the table to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but it doesn’t help anything.

“Why’d you come here?” I ask again, my voice small and serious.

She wipes the tears away with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and finds my eyes with hers.

“Because mom’s a fucking cheater,” There’s a pang in my chest and a lump forms immediately in the back of my throat. “She left her email up and I saw a message from some guy named Mark about them meeting up on the Big Island.”

I can only stare blankly at her and wish with every ounce of my being to erase it from her memory. I guess she was bound to find out about our mother’s infidelity sooner or later, but I’d hoped it would be later to lessen the blow.

Our mother’s an awful human being. It’s not a secret that she never wanted to be a mom. When she got pregnant with me at 15, she wanted to get an abortion and have it all be over and done with, afraid her future would be sacrificed in order to raise a child. My father, however, talked her out of it and promised he’d never leave her side if it meant he could raise me. That’s the difference between my parents; my father has always been the one who wanted us, who loved us while my mother never wanted anything to do with us. Why she decided to continue having children with my father, I’ll never understand, but I have my own theories about it.

“Why aren’t you reacting?” Eliza’s voice breaks me out of my trance and I blink numbly back at her. “Why aren’t you freaking out, Caroline? Mom is fucking cheating on dad and you don’t have anything to say about it?”

“I’m sorry you had to find out,” I whisper, diverting my eyes to the checkered table cloth Eliza had found so entrancing only a few minutes earlier.

“You knew?” She raises her voice loud enough to garner annoyed looks from the surrounding tables. I nod slowly and she slams her fist down onto the table roughly, causing me to jump in complete shock. “Why the hell did you hide it from me?”

“You were too young to know,” I try, but she shakes her head with a fire in her eyes. She’s pissed and has every right to be, but she shouldn’t be taking it out on me.

“I’m eighteen, Caroline. You could have told me when you found out!”

“You were seven!” Now my voice is raised and people are staring, but my statement brings Eliza back down a level and her face contorts from anger to misunderstanding immediately. “Why would I have told you? I didn’t even know how to handle it, myself, let alone break that news to you.”

Tears well in her eyes and her chest rises and falls with her short, rough breaths. “She’s been cheating that long?”

All I can do is nod. I don’t have any words for how painful this revelation was for me when I first found out.

Before ninth grade, I could best be described as a playful and mischievous little shit. I was a student teachers hated to love, but did despite all of my antics. Ninth grade is a tough year in general, with the transition from middle school to high school and all the awkwardness that ensues. Add in the time I accidentally walked in on my mom in bed with another man and I was a hot mess. It was then that I went from being playful to malicious and started acting out in ways I never had before.

I wanted nothing more than for my dad to be happy – he deserved it and I knew it – but my need for my mom to suffer overtook my previous worries and led me to tell him. I didn’t realize it would hurt my dad more than it’d hurt my mom, but it backfired – really backfired – when I realized that my dad couldn’t do anything about it.

“Does dad know?” She asks and I nod again slowly, unsure of how she’ll react. Confusion overtakes her and she shakes her head like she doesn’t believe me. “Why, after eleven years, is he still with her? Why did he continue having children with a woman who wasn’t even faithful to him?”

She really doesn’t understand the dysfunctional way our family works and it kills me to know this has all been going on behind the scenes for so long.

“Think about it,” I begin. “If dad had filed for divorce, who would’ve gotten custody of us?”

Her eyes float to the ceiling as the realization hits. “So he stayed because he was afraid he was going to lose us?”

Bingo.

“Why didn’t he fight it in court?” She demands. “Why didn’t he take her to court? They would’ve given him custody when they realized how shitty of a mom she is.”

“When has dad ever held down a solid job for longer than two months? Never and it’s because mom never wanted him to. She made enough money to allow him to stay at home and raise us because she didn’t want to. She configured this twisted web so that dad wouldn’t ever be able to leave her, no matter how much he wanted to.”

“If she didn’t love him, then why keep him there?” It’s not sinking in and I realize the only reason I understand it all is because I’ve had to play witness to it for the past eleven years and did my best to shield my younger sisters from it.

“Because she does love him, Eliza. They were high school sweethearts, for fucks sake and he’s proven his loyalty throughout the years; she’s afraid of losing his companionship,” I do my best to explain. It’s fucked up and beyond dysfunctional, but it’s part of our family and she needs to understand now that she’s opened her eyes to our issues. “Mom’s bitter because dad knocked her up, but the fact that he stayed by her side throughout the entire thing reassured her love. She cheats because she wants to know if she made the right decision because she’s never known anything else.”

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” She growls. “That’s no excuse for making dad look like a little bitch. He’s a good man, Caroline; he deserves the world.”

“I’m not supporting mom on this, Liza. I’m trying to help you understand her train of thought. Mom’s a sick and twisted person, but whether you like it or not, we inherited her genes, too and have a lot of similarities with her.”

“You’re nothing like mom,” She says, a bit softer this time. “You’d never do anything like that to someone.”

I shake my head and pick at the tablecloth mindlessly. If only she knew.

“I used to wonder why you didn’t go back to Baltimore the first chance you could, but then it hit me. You stayed behind because of us; you were worried about us. Caroline, you’re one of the most altruistic people I know. You’re so much like dad that I’m jealous.”

“Eliza, you remind me so much of myself that it’s scary. I used to worry about you guys so much and yes, that’s part of the reason I didn’t go back to Baltimore, but there were other things holding me back, too. When mom said she got relocated to Hawaii, I knew it was time for me to pass the torch because at some point you need to make sure you’re happy, too and I knew that I was leaving the younger ones in good hands with you.”

“I’m nothing like you,” She says and I know she believes it. Eliza’s always been the black sheep of the family; her white-blonde hair has never been convincing with all the brown hair surrounding her and when I first found out about my mother’s infidelity, I questioned Eliza’s paternity. But the more she’s grown up, the more I realize that she, too, is very much my father’s child.

“You’re wrong,” I force a small smile. “You’re so much like me that I worry.”

“How so?”

When I smile this time, it’s genuine as I think about everything that reminds me of me.

“You think about the younger ones before yourself and you worry about them just as much as I do.”

“That’s just a big sister’s responsibility,” She says and I shake my head.

“No it’s not. Victoria doesn’t worry about Georgia, Natalie, and Livvy like you and I do. It’s something you’re either born with or you’re not. You have it and that’s why I finally let go and stayed behind. But you’re also way braver than I ever was.”

She cocks her head to the side and looks at me like I’m crazy. “No way. I’m nowhere near as brave as you are.”

“It took balls to run off on your own,” I say, remembering how many times I debated getting on a flight to Baltimore. “I was never brave enough to do that.”

“Don’t tell me you never thought about it,” She rolls her eyes.

The amount of times I thought about it is too many to even recall.

“No, I definitely thought about it all the time. Dad even drove me to the airport a few times after I’d packed my bags and demanded he let me go home, but every time there’d be something inside me that told me I wasn’t ready to go back yet. Even with dad’s encouragement and support, I couldn’t run. I wasn’t brave enough to face my old life on my own. The fact that you’re here speaks mountains of you.”

She shakes her head and laughs. “It’s not because I’m brave; it’s because I’m a coward. I couldn’t even face mom, knowing I’d tear her to pieces and I couldn’t face dad, knowing I’d break his heart.”

“It’s all old news to him,” I shrug, pushing my plate away from me and hoping the waitress would bring the check soon. “Sure, it’s gonna hurt him to know that after years of couples therapy that she’s still doing it, but maybe this time he’ll fight it. Maybe this time he’ll stand up for himself and grow a pair.”

“But what if he’s still afraid of losing us?” She asks, worry in her voice. “I mean, now that I’m eighteen, he doesn’t have to worry about me, but what about the others? What makes this time different?”

Her concern only reinforces my trust in her as the one to look out for the younger ones. She thinks the way I used to think and it’s reassuring to know they’re being looked out for, no matter what’s going on at home.

“I’m not so sure it’ll be any different,” I say honestly. Nothing’s changed, but something feels promising about this time. It’s unsettling that I’m getting a sick satisfaction out of my mother’s possible downfall, but it’s been a long time coming. “But either way, they need someone there to look out for them.”

“I thought I wanted to go back to California, but all I want is for them to be protected from all this shit. I don’t want Olivia and Natalie to have to see all this and wonder why we’re so fucked up,” She throws her napkin down on the table and buries her head in her arms. “I need to go back.”

--

The moon illuminates the night sky and I admire it from the windowsill of the hotel room. Eliza is curled up in the sole bed, sleeping peacefully after venting her life’s frustrations to me earlier.

“She’s sleeping now,” I say, running my hand over my goose bump covered legs. “But it was bad. Like, hello Eliza! Happy birthday; your mom is a cheating whore!”

He sighs, knowing it’s not appropriate to laugh in this case. “How’d you get her to agree to go back?”

“I don’t know. I told her she was more like me than anyone else in the world and it scared me.”

Now he laughs and I wish he was here next to me to help me through all this confusion. I haven’t been brave enough to break the news to my dad yet, but I know he’s probably waiting up for an explanation and update on my sister’s well-being.

“I always told you that she was your mini-me, but you never listened!”

“That’s not exactly something an angsty teenager wants to hear about their little sister,” I explain, but know he’ll never understand because for every intent and purpose, he’s an only child. “I wanted to kill her most of the time, not accept that we were alike.”

I groan suddenly and allow my head to roll to the side to look at my sister’s sleeping form. Five minutes ago, she was a pesky little annoyance who wanted nothing more than to tag along with me and my friends everywhere we went. Now she’s an actual human being who I’m proud to say is my sister and can accept that we’re more alike than either of us ever hoped for.

“She’s a good kid. I miss her,” Alex says. He’s the closest thing to an older brother any of my sisters had when we lived in Baltimore and he looked out for them just as much as I had. He liked their company and it got on my nerves that he encouraged them to tag along with us, but it made him feel like a big brother and he loved that they looked up to him so much.

“Yeah, I like her,” I lull, closing my eyes and wishing he could magically aparate and be here with us. “How’re the dunes?”

“They’re sandy,” He laughs lightly at his own joke, but stops after a moment. “But I wish you were here with me.”

“That’s how I’m feeling right now,” I rest my chin on my knees and admire the vastness and beauty of the night sky. “If this is how it feels to be apart for less than a day, how the hell did we do it for seven years?”

“Lots of alcohol,” He says immediately. “And lots of meaningless sex.”

“Well, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who uses those coping mechanisms,” I say dryly, wishing I could go back in time and erase many of those unfortunate nights from my memory. “How long until we see each other again?”

“Say the word and I’m there,” He breathes and the goose bumps that I’ve tamed reappear on my bare legs.

“What’s 'the word?'”

“Hmmmm,” He hums and I close my eyes and smile. “Penis.”

“Then penis,” I say.

He laughs, clearly proud of his word choice and I can’t help but laugh along with him. Eliza stirs in the bed and I choke back my laughter, not wanting to wake her up.

“I’m on the next plane to Chicago,” He says after his laughter dies down. “Prepare yourself and your sister for a day of adventure and shenanigans with the Gaskarth.”

“Will do. Cannot wait to see your face,” It’s worrisome that it’s been less than 24 hours since I’ve seen him, but I can’t fathom being without him for much longer. My dependence on him is disgusting, but I don’t even care.

“Can’t wait to see yours, either,” He says. “Love you and go to bed.”

“Love you, too. Tell the boys I said goodnight.”

“Okay,” He laughs.

I’m really not in the mood to call my dad tonight, but I know I have to. He’s undoubtedly worrying enough for both him and my mother, who probably hasn’t even noticed Eliza’s absence from the island, the idea of which instantly pisses me off.

“Is everything okay?” My dad hasn’t calmed down any from earlier, even with the knowledge that I’m with her.

“Um,” I bite my lip and pick at the stitches on my knees. “Not exactly.”

“Did she say why she ran off?” He asks, urgency and curiosity emanating through the phone. “It’s just not like her.”

“I know, dad,” I take a deep breath and hate myself a little bit for what I’m about to tell him. “Do you remember Paul?”

He goes quiet immediately upon hearing his name. “Yes…”

“There’s another guy, dad.”