great, now you don’t love me either.”
“For fuck’s sake, Cami. Of course I love you, but this...” I wave my hand in her direction.
“This is not you or who you are. This is your mind and body being controlled by something
that scares you half to death. You can’t even begin to imagine how to handle it. Except
for with a bottle and, goddammit all to hell, I will not let you drink yourself into the ground. You are so much better than this, and you
are so much better than Bobby. Get it off of your chest. Go, dammit, go talk to him.
Or I will.”
She looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t face that kind
of pain ever again.”
“What do you call this? You’re tearing yourself up inside because you think you can’t
face it. You’re doing this to yourself because you haven’t even tried. You once told
me, on the beach, that you would give anything for one more chance to talk to him,
one more chance to find out all the answers to all your questions. This is it, this
is your chance, and you’re wasting it in yet another bottle of Crown.” I lean down
so that I can get in her face. “I love you, Cameron, from the bottom of my feet to
the top of my head and then some. I will not sit here while you destroy yourself,
and you can easily fix your problem. Go, talk to him.” She lets out a harsh breath
straight into my face, and all I can smell is the Crown Royal she’s been drinking.
“Tomorrow.”
After that I tuck her into bed to let her sleep it off. She needs to be able to clear
her mind and, if need be, we can have this conversation tomorrow. I don’t have to
be in the makeup chair until ten tomorrow morning because we’re shooting mostly afternoon
and evening shots tomorrow. Once she is settled in, I take a large glass of water
and two Tylenol from the cabinet in the bathroom to her. “Here.” She takes them from
me and drinks them down. I might not be able to help with the vomiting in the morning,
but I can certainly try to ward off the headache that she is certain to have.
I leave her to sleep it off and I go back out into the dining room. Tyson and Jo are
there, finishing up dinner. “Want some?” Jo asks.
“Nah, I’m not hungry.” I go to the fridge, grab myself a Sam Adams and step out onto
the porch, staring up at the stars. The ache in my chest is back, and I rub it, hoping
like hell that something, anything, will help set us back on the right track.
FOURTEEN
After I down the first beer, I go back in for another. Tyson is sitting at the table,
messing around with his phone.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks me.
“Not particularly,” I say, and walk back out the door. I sit up on the railing, where
I was before I downed my beer, and I hear the door swing closed again.
“Tough shit. What’s going on?”
“I told her she had to figure her shit out. Go get the answers she so desperately
needs. Though I might have pushed her too far because I told her that I wanted to
have the woman I fell in love with back.”
“Ouch, man, is she really being that bad?”
I look at him and nod. “She has no sense of the spiral she is falling down. I can’t
even begin to imagine the spiral I would fall down if I found out my mom was still
alive. But our situations are so different from one another. Bobby essentially threw
Cami to the wolves and never even bothered to try, at least while he was alive. At
some point their relationship started to get better, but before it could develop into
anything, he ‘died.’” I can’t even begin to imagine, and to some extent, I understand
why she is falling down this spiral. “I love her more than anything, Ty. I need her
to come back to me.”
“Give her some time. Maybe she will go see her father, get to the bottom of this.
But don’t expect her to be cured when she comes home. You need to remember why this
is so hard
“For fuck’s sake, Cami. Of course I love you, but this...” I wave my hand in her direction.
“This is not you or who you are. This is your mind and body being controlled by something
that scares you half to death. You can’t even begin to imagine how to handle it. Except
for with a bottle and, goddammit all to hell, I will not let you drink yourself into the ground. You are so much better than this, and you
are so much better than Bobby. Get it off of your chest. Go, dammit, go talk to him.
Or I will.”
She looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t face that kind
of pain ever again.”
“What do you call this? You’re tearing yourself up inside because you think you can’t
face it. You’re doing this to yourself because you haven’t even tried. You once told
me, on the beach, that you would give anything for one more chance to talk to him,
one more chance to find out all the answers to all your questions. This is it, this
is your chance, and you’re wasting it in yet another bottle of Crown.” I lean down
so that I can get in her face. “I love you, Cameron, from the bottom of my feet to
the top of my head and then some. I will not sit here while you destroy yourself,
and you can easily fix your problem. Go, talk to him.” She lets out a harsh breath
straight into my face, and all I can smell is the Crown Royal she’s been drinking.
“Tomorrow.”
After that I tuck her into bed to let her sleep it off. She needs to be able to clear
her mind and, if need be, we can have this conversation tomorrow. I don’t have to
be in the makeup chair until ten tomorrow morning because we’re shooting mostly afternoon
and evening shots tomorrow. Once she is settled in, I take a large glass of water
and two Tylenol from the cabinet in the bathroom to her. “Here.” She takes them from
me and drinks them down. I might not be able to help with the vomiting in the morning,
but I can certainly try to ward off the headache that she is certain to have.
I leave her to sleep it off and I go back out into the dining room. Tyson and Jo are
there, finishing up dinner. “Want some?” Jo asks.
“Nah, I’m not hungry.” I go to the fridge, grab myself a Sam Adams and step out onto
the porch, staring up at the stars. The ache in my chest is back, and I rub it, hoping
like hell that something, anything, will help set us back on the right track.
FOURTEEN
After I down the first beer, I go back in for another. Tyson is sitting at the table,
messing around with his phone.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks me.
“Not particularly,” I say, and walk back out the door. I sit up on the railing, where
I was before I downed my beer, and I hear the door swing closed again.
“Tough shit. What’s going on?”
“I told her she had to figure her shit out. Go get the answers she so desperately
needs. Though I might have pushed her too far because I told her that I wanted to
have the woman I fell in love with back.”
“Ouch, man, is she really being that bad?”
I look at him and nod. “She has no sense of the spiral she is falling down. I can’t
even begin to imagine the spiral I would fall down if I found out my mom was still
alive. But our situations are so different from one another. Bobby essentially threw
Cami to the wolves and never even bothered to try, at least while he was alive. At
some point their relationship started to get better, but before it could develop into
anything, he ‘died.’” I can’t even begin to imagine, and to some extent, I understand
why she is falling down this spiral. “I love her more than anything, Ty. I need her
to come back to me.”
“Give her some time. Maybe she will go see her father, get to the bottom of this.
But don’t expect her to be cured when she comes home. You need to remember why this
is so hard
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