Chapter 13

Angelica struggled to open her eyes and focus on the scene unfolding in front of her. She tried to lift her head, the maneuver obviously beyond her capabilities given her inebriated state, which served only to ignite her nauseous stomach once again.

“What do you mean she’s drunk?” Tina asked in an angry voice.

“I mean,” Dana stalled not sure how to further explain Angelica’s illness. “She drank too much at a party she was at and now she’s obviously sick.”

Tina stared for a moment at Angelica lying in Dana’s car with the seat reclined.

“She was at Tracy’s house.”

“Well that’s where the party was,” Dana simply said causing Tina to scowl.

“What did she have to drink?”

“Shots and beer,” Dana answered honestly. “Unfortunately it was all within an hour.”

“How do you know this?”

“Her friends called me to help.”

“Why didn’t they call us?”

“You’ve met Bette right?” Dana asked sarcastically.

“Oh she has more then just Bette to worry about,” Tina said in anger.

“I’m gathering,” Dana mumbled as Tina began to walk around the car to peer into the backseat avoiding the hazard of where Angelica decided to get sick.

“I’ve always said that she could call us if she ran into problems,” Tina continued in anger. “I never wanted to be like some of those parents that have their kids fear them.”

“Clearly she has nothing to worry about,” Dana said, instantly regretting speaking as Tina’s head snapped around in her direction.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Dana said fearing she had said too much already.

“You think I’m being unreasonable?”

“I think that yelling at anyone, including Angelica at this moment, won’t get you anywhere.”

Tina approached Dana’s car and wiped Angelica’s hair away from her face. Angelica allowed tears to fall down her cheeks as she stared up at her mother.

“Mom?” Angelica choked out her question.

Tina ignored her daughter’s plea for affection as she unbuckled her seatbelt and slowly brought the seatback into an upright position.

“Do you think you can walk?” Tina asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you walk or not Angie?”

“I can try,” Angelica said crying at Tina’s lack of coddling.

Tina offered Angelica her hand to assist her in exiting Dana’s SUV and firmly planting her feet on the ground. Angelica laid her head on Tina’s shoulder, desperate for Tina to show any sign of affection given how awful she felt at the moment. Angelica wrapped her arm around Tina’s waist to try to steady herself as Tina firmly held onto her.

“We need to get you inside Angelica,” Tina said in a softer tone seeing how miserable Angelica felt. “Do you think you can make it?”

“I don’t know,” Angelica said quickly leaning over and spitting onto the ground fearing the recent movement ignited her nausea once more. “Please make it stop Mom.”

“It will eventually,” Tina said torn about showing Angelica a sign of compassion given her current level of anger.

“How are you going to get her in there without Bette hearing?”

“Oh I have no intention of hiding this from Bette,” Tina said firmly.

“Well look at the time,” Dana said looking at her bare wrist. “I’ve got windows screaming for a good Windex bath. Al told me the best time to wash windows was before dawn.”

“I bet.”

“Do you need me to stay?” Dana asked praying Tina’s answer was no. “I can help you get her to the door.”

“That would be helpful.”

Dana got on the other side of Angelica and helped balance her weight so that she could stumble to the front porch.

“You need to lift your legs Angie,” Tina directed when they got to the stairs.

“I can’t.”

“You need to try,” Tina insisted.

“I don’t feel so well,” Angelica warned.

“That’s code for it’s coming out,” Dana informed Tina.

“I got that, thanks.”

Tina sat Angelica down on the steps leading to the front porch to allow her some time to settle her stomach.

“Can you get me some water Dana?” Tina asked.

“In there?” Dana asked petrified of entering Bette and Tina’s house.

“Yes in there.”

“Are you sure we couldn’t just use the hose?”

“She’ll hear the water turn on outside anyway,” Tina said exasperated. “You’re not the one she’s going to go ballistic on.”

“If she didn’t hear me throwing rocks at your house you really think she’ll hear the hose?”

“Angie is not drinking out of the hose,” Tina insisted.

“Alright,” Dana reluctantly agreed. “I’ll sneak in but if I don’t come out in 2 minutes send help.”

Dana walked into the house quietly, creeping to the sink in the kitchen and grabbing a glass. She slowly opened the refrigerator and saw a pitcher of water perched on a shelf.

“Thank God I don’t have to turn the water on,” Dana whispered to herself.

She poured the cold water into the glass and set the pitcher back in the refrigerator quietly.

She stepped toward the front door and cringed when the floor creaked under her feet.

“God,” Dana whispered quietly. “Please let me get out of this alive and I promise I’ll even try to convert Al into believing.”

Dana moved again, a similar creak breaking the silence of the night, but this time she wasted no time in praying. She simply walked through the noise and quickly outside shutting the door behind her.

“I never thought I’d get out of there,” Dana said quietly.

Dana turned and was bowled over by Angelica trying to dart inside the house quickly. Her hand was covering her mouth and she was stumbling as her feet worked faster then her coordination could manage in her condition.

“Angie get back here!” Tina yelled from the doorway as she saw the back of her daughter fly down the hallway.

“I think she had to get sick from what I saw,” Dana offered her experience from the night.

“Or hide in her room like she always does,” Tina walked inside not bothering with trying to remain quiet in an effort to avoid waking Bette up. “Angelica Kennard-Porter you better not be hiding in your room!”

Both Tina and Dana heard a rumbling for the master bedroom causing Dana’s stomach to flip flop with nerves.

“So yeah,” Dana scrambled to get her keys and hand Tina the glass of water. “Those windows are really calling me.”

Dana shoved the glass of water into Tina’s hand and began to walk out of the door when she heard Bette’s voice from the hallway.

“What the hell is going on?” Bette yelled back as she appeared from the hallway.

“Damn those windows!” Dana said as she fumbled with the doorknob to exit the house.

“Dana?” Bette had at least dressed herself in a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top, which brought much joy to Dana’s eyes when she turned to face her. “Are you ok? Why are you yelling Tina?”

“I’d love to stay,” Dana said sheepishly. “But I liked you both better when you were boring and we had to intervene. This is too much for me.”

Angelica moaned from the bathroom causing Bette to divert her attention to the direction of the sound. Seizing the opportunity, Dana bolted, making no effort at looking back when she told Tina to call her in the morning to let her know how Angelica was feeling. Dana quickly shut the door, blocking out Bette’s voice asking Tina what was going on, confused at the night’s activities.

“Angie?” Bette walked down the hallway and heard Angelica in the bathroom vomiting. “Baby?”

Bette opened the door to find Angelica on the floor with her head resting on the toilet. Bette’s mouth flew open in shock, but she quickly recovered and bent down pushing Angelica’s hair off her forehead.

“Boo what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry Mama B,” Angelica cried holding onto Bette’s arms trying to gain leverage to sit up straight.

“Baby stay right there,” Bette urged her to stay put and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it and dabbing at Angelica’s mouth. “What’s going on Honey?”

“She’s sick,” Tina said in anger leaning against the doorway that led into the bathroom.

“I gathered that,” Bette shot back. “What’s wrong?”

“You can’t smell the alcohol on her breath?”

“Alcohol?” Bette looked back at Tina in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s drunk Bette!”

“She was supposed to be at Tracy’s house,” Bette heard her voice rising in anger but did nothing to control it.

“She was at Tracy’s house,” Tina continued her explanation. “Where there was a party. And she proceeded to do shots and chase it all down with beer in under an hour and got sick.”

“What?” Bette whipped her head back around when Angelica moved to spit into the toilet. “How do you know this?”

“Angie’s friends called Dana, afraid to call us thinking you’d flip out.”

“Me?”

“Little do they know,” Tina said. “I’m the one angry at this moment!”

Angelica spit in the toilet and quickly had the dry heaves follow close behind. Tina walked into the bathroom and rubbed Angelica’s back urging her to allow her body to expel any residual alcohol if it needed to.

“She lied to us?” Bette asked in anger withdrawing her comforting hand from Angelica.

“Technically no, she was at Tracy’s. She didn’t tell us there was a party there with drinking!”

“Weren’t you the one that said she was harmless when we were talking about her and her fucking antics at the game?”

“Her having a crush on you is harmless,” Tina rubbed Angelica’s back trying to offer some comfort as she spit in the toilet again. “Having a party when I can only assume her parents aren’t there and serving alcohol isn’t harmless.”

“I want to kill that fucking….” Bette was cut off due to the look on Tina’s face given her choice language.

“Oh please,” Tina defended Tracy. “I’m sure that Tracy didn’t pour the alcohol down Angelica’s throat and Dana said her friends were sober.”

“Why can’t she be more like Cathy?” Bette mumbled. “Just easy going, no games, no hidden agendas, no drinking….”

“Not helping,” Tina mumbled. “Can you get up and into your bed Angie?”

“I think so.”

“Enjoy it,” Bette said on the verge of yelling. “You’ll be spending what will seem like an eternity in there.”

Tina helped Angelica to her feet and balanced her with strong arms while she got her bearings.

“Let’s get you in bed,” Tina said to Angelica. “We’ll get you tucked in and I’ll stay in there with you to make sure you’re ok.”

“I love you Mom.”

“I know,” Tina said trying hard to balance between anger and concern for her child. “Let’s go Angie.”

“I want to go over there and ring her neck myself,” Bette said following Tina and Angelica down the hallway to Angelica’s bedroom.

“What would that prove Bette?”

“She’d at least get some form of punishment that she has begged for at this point with her irresponsibility.”

“We should likely worry about punishing Angelica and leave the rest up to the parents of the other kids,” Tina said frustrated with Bette’s rant.

“Just think Tina,” Bette shot back in anger. “You wanted another one when we can barely survive the one we have!”

“Nice Bette. Just go back to bed,” Tina said in anger.

“I’m sorry,” Angelica began to cry at her mothers arguing.

Bette slammed the door in anger as she walked back to her bedroom searching for a pair of jeans and a top to easily slip into. She threw her pajamas on the unmade bed and slipped her running shoes on quickly, not bothering to untie them.

Bette stormed out of the bedroom and past Angelica’s room, sticking her head in to ensure Angelica was settled and Tina didn’t need anything.

“Where are you going?” Tina questioned her.

“Outside to cool down.”

“Where outside?”

“Just out,” Bette said in a calmer voice. “I need to cool off for a bit.”

“Don’t go where I think you’re going.”

Bette scoffed and walked out of the door standing on the porch as the cool air blew past her and caressed her skin. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly to calm her nerves.

“I fucking hate that little conniving bitch,” Bette mumbled to herself.

She paced back and forth on the porch trying to expel her excess energy and not making much progress on that front.

“I’d love to find her house,” Bette mumbled once more to herself. “I bet she wouldn’t be too happy to see me then.”

Bette turned around and opened the door to the house grabbing her keys that rested on the table near the door.

“I’m going for a drive,” Bette yelled into the house and closed the door before Tina could answer. She wanted to go for a drive and didn’t want to hear logic about how she shouldn’t run away from a tense situation.

Bette got into her car and started the engine, quickly pulling out of the driveway and onto the main street. She drove quickly past the high school and felt her anger rising once more. She came to the intersection that forced her into turning left or right. She knew the road to the right led to her gallery and a safe place for her to gather her thoughts. The left, she believed, led her closer to Tracy’s house but she wasn’t sure where it was exactly located.

“I could look for all the under-aged drunks,” Bette said talking over the loud stereo.

Bette signaled and began down the road of her choice, still feeling the anger rising to a dangerous level.

A pencil slammed against the wall and broke in two, keeping with the theme of anger for the night. The small amount of light from the one lone lamp was shining on the half completed sketch of a woman bent over, holding her stomach, obviously with child.

“This one has to be perfect,” Megan said in anger.

She got up and paced the length of the gallery, not caring what time it was or that she hadn’t cleared it with Bette to work through the night. Her inspiration had hit her late in the day and she desperately needed to get some work done on the show.

She reached in her pocket and took out the worn paper that consistently was with her throughout the years. Her fingers touched the glossy front of it, tears falling down her face, but going unnoticed by Megan.

She closed her eyes and felt the pain in her heart as she struggled to block out the memories of painful times.

“God I’d do anything to change things,” Megan said through tears. “I’d give anything to change.”

Megan slumped in the corner near her sketchpad and broken pencil halves. She looked up at the sculpture that Bette had started earlier that day. The sketch was resting near the stool that she sat on all day in front of her work. Megan smiled through her tears remembering the enthusiasm and passion that Bette used in creating her vision.

“I knew you’d be the right choice,” Megan muttered to herself.

She walked up to the stool and sat down on it in front of Bette’s piece of art. She took a deep breath and allowed her fingers to gently caress the firm sculpting clay. Her tears stopped and her breath returned to normal as she got lost in the detail of Bette’s work compared to Megan’s sketch.

“I couldn’t have picked anyone better Bette Porter,” Megan said with a sly smile on her face. “You just don’t know it yet.”