Beth

Part I Chapter One

"Does dad know where we are?" Beth had unpacked a fair amount of her things. Her new bass and her clothes for school being the most important. She'd taken a break and watched her mom from the kitchen doorway.

"The landlord didn't clean anything, and the last tenants were disgusting. By law he's supposed to clean it." Her mother was never sharp with her tongue. Cruel or sarcastic with her words. But today, the reality had set in. And she was heartbroken. "Yes." Her mother finally answered. "I left the address and our number with Adam." She hoped beyond all hope that it was the right decision. That moving where they had was the right decision. That continuing to take him back, letting him back in their lives every time, was the right decision. Her mother took a deep breath.

"Mom, this is good for now. Go to bed." She laughed. All that awaited her there was loneliness and night terrors.

"I want to cook us breakfast in the morning, okay?" Beth nodded knowing they were both near tears but keeping it together for the other.

"I love you, Mom. Goodnight."

...

Good to her word, Beth could hear her mother cooking when she woke up. There was a steaming cup of coffee on her nightstand. She didn't have an appetite, but she'd learned how to eat to appease her mom. Her mother had told her she could stay home another day or two until they were settled more, but she didn't want to. This wasn't home. It never would be. Being there made her sad. She went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She glimpsed in the mirror. She looked like she'd been crying for days. In reality, it had been weeks. She faked a smile, practicing for her mother. Her mother was doing the same exact thing at that exact moment. Faking a smile for Beth.

"Good morning." Lisa sang. Beth hugged her from behind while she rolled a crepe full of berries and a chocolate hazelnut spread.

"You don't have to go over the top, mom. I'm a big girl." She pinched some sugar and sprinkled it over the top.

"You're too grown up is the problem." Lisa clarified, kissing her daughter's head. "Are you nervous?" Beth shrugged.

"Not really." Too many other emotions competed for her attention. "Teenagers are the same everywhere I guess." Her mother feared exactly that.  

...

Lisa heard a faint knock. They didn't know anyone in the area, and Beth's music wasn't so loud a neighbor would complain. Any normal person would have rung the doorbell. Or knocked loud enough for people to hear. This knock was timid. It was filled with shame and regret. She turned on the porch light and opened the door. He looked like shit. He looked like a druggie. He looked like a deadbeat da-. She cut her own thoughts off.

"You're clean, I hope." She looked him over, deciding for herself.

"Yes." He replied. She didn't look convinced. "Barely." He admitted shame bled from his eyes. "I miss you, and I miss Beth. And I just want to be home with my family." She stepped aside and let him in.

"Go shower." She said, pointing to the bathroom. "I'll grab clothes and a towel." She did so, slipping in the already steam-filled bathroom. The water poured over his face, hiding the tears. His body ached from withdrawals though the worst of it was over, his soul ached from addiction, his heart ached from the damage he'd done to the only people he loved, and that loved him back. He stepped out of the shower and saw the towel and clothes. He noticed there were three toothbrushes. She always lived as if he was coming home at any moment. He brushed his teeth and found deodorant in the cabinet. Being clean felt good. He stepped out of the bathroom and found her waiting for him on the couch. "Our room." She pointed to a cracked door. "Beth's. I let her know you were home. She just wants a little more time." He nodded.

"Thank you." He said, his voice shaking. He stood there, too ashamed- yet grateful, to move without permission. To speak without permission. Even though that had never been the way they had run this family.

"I'm sure you're exhausted." She said, not knowing what else to say in the moment. "I am too." She abruptly turned to their bedroom, and he followed her in. They slid into the bed together though they didn't touch.

...

"I like the lights." Beth's father interrupted. Beth jumped a mile. She hadn't heard him enter her room.

"Sorry, I thought I shut the door."

"No problem." Her dad replied, completely clueless. He continued to look around her room, not taking the hint.

"That means I don't want any visitors." She clarified.

"I'm hardly a vis—." She cut him off with a scoff and a look of pure disgust. She hated the way his face registered as shock and hurt. He didn't have a right to feel hurt about anything. She held his stare, hers dripping with animosity. He decided he'd lost this particular battle and being home would have to be enough. As he crossed the threshold, she said what she had to say.

"I'm glad you're not on drugs." He turned back.

"Me too, sweetie. Me too."

...

The shitty thing about not wanting to be home was having nowhere to go. No local friends or family. She was mind numbingly depressed. Her dad had been home for three long and agonizing days. She had school. She had sleep. So that meant she really only had about five hours to avoid him. But still. She didn't even want to be in the same room as him. She sighed before she opened the back door and walked into the apartment. The piece of shit, super tiny, gross apartment.

"Where were you?" Her mother asked, half panicked. Beth looked up, caught off guard by any emotion other than flatline.

"Nowhere, really. I stopped at the music store. Tried out some instruments I'll never own." The pain in her voice was a blade to her mother's heart. Her dad sat on the couch. They'd been watching a movie together. Her mother had since stood to interrogate her. Her father stared down at his hands in his lap. Coward.

"Maybe next time stop by home or my work and let me know?" She nodded.

"Sure."

"Do you want some dinner?" She asked. "Dad made street tacos. The kind with pineapple rice and raspberries." Her stomach growled, but she lied anyway.

"No. I'm good. I have homework, I'll be in my room." She went in, closing the door behind her. Lisa sat back down next to Jay.

"She's just in a funk. She'll be fine." She assured him, taking his hand. He didn't sit back and relax.

"Maybe I should try talking to her again." He offered. She shook her head.

"No. Definitely not right now." Lisa advised.

"She's not like this every other time." He pointed out.

"This isn't like every other time." She reminded him. He tensed even more and ran his hands through his hair. She let out a sigh. He'd been home for two days, and she knew it wasn't going to last. She just knew.

"I don't like the way you feel." He whispered. She put her arm around him and hugged him.

"I just feel like you're struggling. A lot. So soon." He hugged her back.

"I know." He whispered.

"I just want to treasure the time we have."

"Me too." Beth heard her parents go to bed. She felt bad for disappearing. Her mother had been genuinely scared. Ugh. She just wanted to be like her dad and fuck everyone over, be selfish, not give a shit. But the conscience gene that had skipped him had found her for sure.