Chapter Seventeen

Greta could not have predicted that a simple knock on the door could put her life into another tailspin. She'd felt great that day. She had resumed going to rehearsals and had invited Vance to one of her concerts, where he'd promptly fallen asleep. But she was happy with her life and their relationship. So she'd been especially excited as she set dinner for Vance and Crystal, feeling proud that she was hosting guests for a meal in her newly remodeled house. But in an instant everything was gone.

Greta opened the door and stared at Brianna who had tears running down her face. She was now twenty-six, but obviously taking care of her mother had taken its toll and aged her. Her once smooth complexion looked dry and rough, and her hair looked brittle and lifeless, like it hadn’t been washed for some time.

"What is it?" Greta asked. "Is it my mother causing trouble?"

"No, it's mine. You have to help me find her."

"What do you mean?"

"She hasn't come home in two days."

Greta felt her heart constrict. Marlene had been clean for months. The last time she'd spoken to her, she sounded fine. "What did Rita say?"

"She's with her boyfriend."

Greta clenched her hands into fists. Her mother didn't care about anyone, as long as she had a man, nothing else mattered. An hour later, after calling Vance to cancel dinner, Greta found herself in her third crack house that evening. It was a decrepit two-story wood house at the end of a dead end street. Peeling paint provided the only decoration in the sparsely furnished rooms, where bodies, some clothed, and some half-naked, where strewn everywhere on urine soaked mattresses.

Then she saw a half-nude body slumped in the corner: Marlene. Greta ran over to her and checked her pulse. It was weak but there. With Brianna’s help they got Marlene in Greta's car and drove her to the closest emergency room. Greta didn’t bother calling for an ambulance, because of where they were, she knew they wouldn’t come or would take up to 45 minutes to an hour, and Marlene was in a bad shape. As Greta drove to the hospital, all she kept wondering was why. What had happened to all her sister's joys and hopes, the great adventure her fortune teller had told her about?

Seven hours later, Greta sat in her sister's hospital room with a tearful Brianna. Marlene had just survived an overdose--barely. When she looked over at her niece, who was absently rubbing her stomach, Greta saw something she hadn't noticed before, and it made her heart sink.

"Who's the father?" she asked gesturing to the small swell of her niece’s belly. She looked about five months.

Brianna shrugged. "Just some guy."

Her sister had said the same thing years ago and likely her mother, Rita, had too. The men were always nameless and faceless. They were 'just some guy'. Greta knew there was no use scolding her. She'd tried to encourage her niece to get a college degree and choose a different path. She had even offered to pay her tuition. She'd wanted more for her niece, but Brianna was now a grown woman who could make her own choices. There was going to be another generation of the same. At least she'd waited until she was in her twenties, but Greta knew that raising a baby alone would still be a struggle. Greta turned from Brianna and looked at her sister. At that moment she felt she'd failed them both.

"How is she?" Rita asked coming into the room with a scruffy looking man close behind her.

Greta stood and looked at the man. "This is family only. You need to leave."

"I told them that he was my husband."

"That's a laugh, since you've never had one." Greta pointed to the man. "Go."

"She's in a mood," Rita said. She kissed the man. "See you later. Wait for me in the lounge." She waved him goodbye, then walked over to the bed. "How long will she have to stay?"

"She shouldn't even be in here," Greta said in a tight voice.

Rita shrugged. "It's not my fault she couldn't stay clean."

"You should have been looking out for her."

"How was I supposed to know what she was doing?"

"You know the signs, but you didn’t care. She was doing great before you decided to leech off of her."

"I'm her mother."

"You don't know the meaning of the word. Did your new boyfriend try to jack off on her again? Or maybe he was the one who got her back on drugs?"

"How come you're always blaming me? What about her?" She pointed to Brianna. "She got herself knocked up and that flipped Marlene out. She didn't know how she was going to handle another mouth to feed. She didn't want to call you because she didn't want to disappoint you. Where were you? How come you never stopped by our place?"

"I've been traveling for my job and dealing with my house repairs."

Rita rested a hand on her hip. "You just wanted to forget about us. That's all. You've got money. Why did you force Marlene to get a job and a place of her own?"

"I didn’t force her to do anything. That's what she wanted."

"No, that's what you wanted. You wanted us out of your hair and you got it."

"No. Let me clarify. Marlene's over forty. It's time she stood on her own two feet."

"Right," Rita said with a sneer. "Because you know what's right for us. You were, no are, always telling us what to do. None of us can live up to your standards. "

Greta threw up her hands. Blame, blame, blame. It was always her fault. She was always failing them somehow and maybe her mother was right. "You're right. I'm done. I can't do this anymore. I won't tell you what to do anymore. I'm gone." Greta knew things were never going to change. Her niece would have her baby, maybe more. Her mother would continue having her men, and her sister would continue her struggle with drugs.

"That's right. Walk out on us. Your family. You are such a loser. You always wanted to get rid of us."

Greta glared at Rita. "No, just you."

***

When she got in her car, Greta was too tired to cry. She didn't even cry on her drive home. She knew she couldn't just walk away from her sister, but she had to get away for awhile. She paused when she saw Vance's car in her driveway. She parked and shook her head when he got out.

"Not now," she said walking to her front door.

"Tera--"

Greta put her key in the lock. "I can't talk right now."

"What's going on?"

She spun around and faced him. "I can't see you anymore. Not because I don't want to be with you, but because I can't. My life will poison you. It's too much. It's too ugly. My family will suck the very life out of you and I don’t want that to happen. I can't, no, I won't expose you and your daughter to what I have to deal with."

He shook his head. "I can face anything."

"Really?" Her voice cracked. "Can you face finding your sister half naked, in a coma, on a filthy floor in a crack house? Can you deal with your mother, who’s now in her late-fifties, sleeping with another man you know won't last a year? Your niece is expecting a baby, after getting pregnant by ‘some guy’ looking to you for support? You've never had to face things like this and you shouldn't have to.

"Right now my sister is lying in the intensive care unit in a hospital bed, recovering from a drug overdose, with a whole bunch of tubes coming in and out of her. She'd been clean for months and my mother’s is blaming me." She brushed tears aside, struggling against a wave of exhaustion that threatened to topple her. "I can't win with them. No matter how hard I try, I always fail."

"That's not true."

"Please, Vance." Her voice broke with misery. She seized the front of his shirt, held them in her fists and held his gaze, determined to make him understand. "I love you." She laughed bitterly. "I never thought I'd say that to a man, but I do." She rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling his scent and gaining strength from his presence. "I love you and I will not expose someone I love to this life." She reluctantly released her hold and met his eyes again. "Never." She turned to her door and opened it. "Things will never change, they will only get worse." She walked inside and then faced him, icy despair twisting her heart. "Goodbye." She started to close the door.

Vance stopped her with an intensity that surprised her. "I'm not saying goodbye."

"We have to."

"No, we don't. I don't care if things get worse." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "How come you feel responsible for taking care of everybody else, but won't let anyone take care of you? If you really love me, then you'll let me love you."

Greta hung her head, walked over to her couch and sat down. "I'm so tired and worn and broken. How can you love that?"

Vance sat down beside her and gathered her in his arms. "You're not broken, and if you're tired, then let me hold you up. Don't shut me out."

She looked up at him with hot tears burning her eyes. "I'd rather push you away than have you walk out on me. My grandmother couldn't cope. My mother, and my family are--"

"Not you. You've done well for yourself and you should be proud. I am. Nothing's going to tear me from your side."

Greta allowed herself to sink into the safety of his embrace and closed her eyes finally surrendering to the weight of her exhaustion. "And I don't want to let you go. Can you stay with me tonight?"

"I want to stay with you every night," Vance said, his voice deep and steady. "Will you let me?"

She nodded.

"You know what I'm asking you, right?"

Greta nodded again, and managed a smile. "I can feel your heart racing. Does the thought of marrying me make you that nervous?"

"No, it makes me extremely happy. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you...I can't put into words how I feel."

"I know," she whispered, then drifted off to sleep

***

Vance held a sleeping Greta in his arms, remembering their first night together months ago when he'd gotten a flat tire and she'd been attacked. She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder then, and he'd felt a sense of possessiveness that had surprised him. Now, the feeling was only stronger. He felt right, as if he were home.

She reminded him of his father. His father was a lot like Greta. Burdened by the need to be the savior to his large family in Ghana, but never feeling he was doing enough. He'd given hundreds of thousands of dollars to them over the years and Vance had just thought he was simple and foolish. He now understood it was more complicated. The bounds of family love and guilt all wrapped up together, creating chaos and uncertainty and strain in many people’s lives. Especially for people like Greta, and his dad. For the first time in his life he was able to see his father in a new light, no longer as someone who was weak--but someone with integrity and his own sense of moral obligation.

He looked forward to introducing her to him. He didn't want her to feel alone. She had a new family now.