Please Don't Make Me Beg

After what seemed like an hour, Li lifted her head from her knees, exhausted and spent. The echo of the slamming front door still resounded in her ears, and the silence in the house was surreal as a crypt.

That's what it is, she thought, a tomb where Sam died and I did, too--I just wasn't alive enough to know it. Too many years of trying to be someone's mother, or wife, or friend, or co-worker, trying to be as good as her friends who all seemed to be happy cleaning house and baking and shoe shopping, had driven her spirit so deep inside her that she had forgotten who she really was. Then in a moment of abandonment, she had let herself consider having a little happiness again, and had lost...everything, now that Andi was gone.

She wanted desperately to go after Andi, to beg her to come back, but she knew that nothing she could say would change her daughter's mind right now. In her eyes, Li had betrayed her father, and as much as the girl had adored Sam, there could be no greater hurt. The truth was secondary to that.

It was a trap that she couldn't escape. Hadn't she paid her dues? Didn't she deserve just a little freedom, some fucking breathing room? Apparently not. Apparently she was to be held to convent standards, a nun without a habit. Her needs had gotten buried in that curly maple casket right beside Sam's lifeless body, and the grass had grown thick and green above them both.

Now the anger was running like hot mercury through her veins. She was a ticking bomb, so close to explosion she could smell the sulfur of the sparking fuse.

She couldn't stand it anymore. Feet flying down the stairs, she found herself in the kitchen, throwing open cabinet doors and grabbing pots, flinging them across the room with such force that she heard the crack of drywall and the shattering of the microwave front. Plates crashed into the wall, sending razor-sharp splinters deep into her knees and calves. She never felt them.

Her hand closed around the handle of the long chef's knife and slid it out of the wooden block. Sunlight streamed in through the window and glinted off the polished steel, reflecting back to her the dark circles under her eyes, her wild, tousled hair, the hectic patches of red on her cheeks.

With one last cry that gave a voice to all the despair and hopelessness she felt, she dropped to her knees and brought the knife blade whistling down and sank it halfway to the hilt in the wooden floor.

"Fuck you Sam!" she screamed, so loudly she thought her throat would burst. "And fuck you, Billie Joe! Why the hell did you have to make me feel so good, when you knew I couldn't have you? Now I've totally fucked everything up, and it's all because of you!"

She could still see his face as if he were right in front of her, could taste his lips, so sweet they were maddening, could feel the hard muscles working as his arms had trapped her against the side of her car. Why had she been such a fool?

When the kitchen phone rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared at it for a few seconds, trying to remember why it was so important that she answer it. Then her heart leaped into her throat--it was Andi, calling her to come and bring her home!

She nearly tripped over the pots trying to grab the receiver.

"Hello, Andi?" she panted.

"Guess again!" a cheerful voice on the other end greeted her. There was a familiarity, but she was far too preoccupied to recognize who was speaking.

"Who the hell is this?" she snapped.

"Is this Li?" the voice asked, obviously surprised at her tone.

"Yes--now tell me who you are and what you want. My daughter may be trying to call and I need to speak to her!" she cried, almost desperate.

The voice grew serious. "Li, it's Billie--what's wrong?"

"Oh, wonderful! You are the last person I want to talk to right now!"

"What the--what have I done? I was just calling to tell you I have your phone--"

"I know you have my fucking phone, and I want it back. Just not right now!" She slammed the receiver back into the cradle, and began to pace back and forth in front of it, willing it to ring and bring her daughter back to her.

When it rang again, she snatched it up before the second ring, but didn't answer right away.

"Li, I know you're there. What the fuck is going on with Andi? Is she okay?" His voice made her more furious than she already was.

"I told you, please just send me back my phone and get off the line!" Her patience was completely tapped out. "If she calls I don't want the line tied up!"

"Okay, okay--give me your address, and I'll mail it back! But please tell me what's wrong--is Andi hurt? I want to help you, Li. I've got kids, too, you know!" he pleaded.

"You've done quite enough, thanks. Just mail the phone back to 553 Valley Run," she replied coldly. She hung up again, and sank onto the chair.

Evan would know where she was, she thought. He'll have talked with her, and maybe he can help me get her calmed down so we can meet and talk this thing through rationally.

She dialed the number that Andi had carefully written at the top of their list on the refrigerator, surrounded by little pink hearts.

"Hello?" a deep voice mumbled.

"Hi, Evan, this is Andi's mom. Have you spoken with her this afternoon? I was trying to reach her, but she must have turned off her cell." She was trying to sound as casual as she could, considering that she was dangerously close to throwing up.

He hesitated a moment before he answered. "She's here, but she doesn't want to talk to you right now. It's probably better if you don't try to contact her for a while," Evan said. He didn't sound angry, exactly, but the warmth she usually heard in his voice was gone. Then the low buzz of the dial tone filled her ear.

She felt completely helpless. They were together, but Andi had shut her out of her life for the present, and there was no one to help her.

From the living room, Cooper began to bark furiously, jumping up to look out the window. Pulling back the curtains, she saw a black BMW convertible pull into the driveway, and a familiar-looking shock of black, spiky hair capping a pair of black Ray-Bans.

She looked down at Cooper, who was still going ballistic. "Wanna sic a bad guy, boy?" she muttered.