Page 75 of Save Me
Xander
Against her better judgement of avoiding all things involving implements of torture, Beth has taken it upon herself to go to the gym. A thoroughly alien place to her, and only so that Leo will leave the house unguarded, thus giving me the opportunity to sneak inside of her house. Her mom is sitting in one of the old floral armchairs when I arrive and merely nods toward the waiting glass of OJ for me with a somewhat sorrowful expression on her face. I slump down with a comfortable sigh, enjoying the fact that my girlfriend’s mother already knows what I like to drink and is happy enough to just let me march in and join her without batting an eyelid.
After about ten minutes of her staring into space, and me feeling less confident about my aforementioned comfort, I decide to open up first.
“What’s up, Mrs T?”
When she finally looks my way, she puts on a sad smile, though it’s still one that reminds me of Beth.
“You’re very astute, did you know that?” she says as her fake smile turns into an awkward laugh.
“Only when it comes to Beth.” I grin stupidly, thinking of her and the fact that I’m going to be able to see her alone very soon. I then snap out of my goofy thoughts and return to her mother, who is still looking forlorn over whatever else has decided to grace her doorstep. “And you, Mrs T, share many traits with your wonderful daughter.”
“You’re also very charming,” she says with a roll of her eyes, finally earning me a sincere smile, one that goes beyond just being polite.
“And you’re both very sarcastic!” I throw back at her, laughing with her to try and get her talking because I can imagine she doesn’t have many people to share her problems with. Beth has enough on her plate, and I’ll put money on the fact that her mother keeps a lot back from her.
“That’s a trait all of us Taylors share!” She replies, then takes a long slurp of her tea, hiding behind the massive mug that clearly states she is ‘The Best Mum’, together with a little three-year-old handprint smudged on the bottom. I keep staring at her so that when she finally puts that ridiculous-sized mug down, she sees me still waiting for a response and smiles sheepishly for it.
“My father died yesterday.”
Before she’s even completed her statement, she bursts into tears and immediately throws her hands up to her face to cover her traitorous tears, even though her shuddering shoulders give her away just as much. At this point, I don’t care whose mom she is, I’m up and hugging her with my gorilla arms just like I would with my own mother. She soon drops her whole head onto her folded arms against the table, where she gives into it. Seemingly coming to terms with the fact that she needs to cry, and me not being here to see it isn’t really an option, she takes hold of my hand for comfort.
“I don’t know what to do or what to tell Beth,” she eventually says. “She’s not allowed to come back with me, and I certainly don’t want to leave her here, but it’s her grandfather, my father!”
I curse under my breath, because this really is a shitty predicament for all involved. Apart from Oliver Lawrence of course. He gets whatever he wants like a spoilt little prince in a dark, fucked up fairy tale.
“I’m sorry, Mrs T, this whole thing with Lawrence is beyond messed up!” I could have used much worse language, for the situation certainly warrants it, but she’s still a mom and I respect her too much.
“I can’t even leave her in your care because of him!” She slams her hand on the table, which probably hurt a lot more than she’s prepared to let on, but I pretend not to notice. I merely continue to hold her to try and offer comfort without this getting too weird. She pats my hand and looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, as she tries to regain her composure.
“Xander, thank you so much for loving her, for being there for her. I can see how much you and her care about one another, and whilst we’ve failed her, she’s had you to lean on. You’re so good for her.”
“You haven’t failed her, Mrs T! How could you have? You didn’t even know!” I argue and tut at the same time, shaking my head over her ridiculous self-disparaging comment. One that isn’t even remotely true.
“But I can’t fix it for her. I can’t make it all go away!” She sighs quietly and turns her head toward the tabletop while picking at a stray crumb as her focal point to try and keep it together. “When you have your first child, you don’t realize how much you will instantly love them, instantly want to shield them from anything bad, but you do. You will swear to that little bundle of joy that you will do anything to protect them, to do what’s best for them, even if it means sacrificing yourself!” She physically slumps, her adrenaline seemingly beginning to dissipate as she shakes her head again. “But I can’t even do that because he only wants her!”
“I know, Mrs T, but I swear I will do all I can to protect her!” She most likely believes that I’m giving her a throw-away comment. I’ve already decided not to tell anyone else but Beth about the cabin, for all their sakes, as well as ours. Christ knows what that man is capable of and what he will do to get information out of people.
As she sits, staring into the pattern of the wood on the table, sighing over everything she cannot control. I sit back on my own chair and lean forward, as though I’m about to ask her to teach me the meaning of life.
“Tell me about him…your father,” I ask with a serious expression, hopefully telling her that I really want to know about one of Beth’s close relatives and where she came from. It must convince her to some extent because she instantly smiles like she’s lost in memories of happier times with her dad. She begins to regale me with tales of when she was little and growing up in South London with three siblings. They all lived a high-rise flat where the neighbors happily moved in and out of each other’s doors. Half the time, the children in your own front room were those of other people, and food, drink, toys, and affection were shared between the whole community.
She has us both laughing over her big brother’s penchant for bringing back random items from the local area, including a live grenade that her father took to the local cop shop. It caused the whole place to go into lockdown. I hope it cheered her up a little, if only for a few minutes. She more than deserves it.
Soon after, we’re both startled by the sound of Beth opening the front door. We both shuffle around as if we’ve been up to no good. So much so, that when she comes through with a huge grin on her face, it immediately drops over the sight of us. Her mother’s tear-stained cheeks and sorrowful eyes have her rushing to her side and looking at her with deep concern.
“What’s going on?” she asks in a hurry, and with her eyes darting from side to side over her mother’s face. “What on earth has happened now?!”
“Your grandfather… I’m sorry, Beth,” she whimpers as she grabs hold of Beth’s hands and pulls her in close. I watch my girl’s face crumble much like her mother’s just did. I let them hold each other before I get up to wrap my huge arms around them.
“You have to go,” Beth eventually says with determination, sniffing and wiping back tears from her face. “You’re his daughter and you both loved each other so much. You need to be there!” She begins to nod in affirmation over what she’s just declared out loud. Her mother desperately wants to argue, however, she gives up before she even opens her mouth because she knows she can’t.
“It will probably mean me having to stay with Oliver.” Beth shrugs bravely, but I can tell she’s trying really hard not to cry again.
“Then I don’t go!” her mother says defiantly and huffs with frustration. She stares up at the ceiling as if asking some higher power to give her the answer that she needs to this awful situation. “Give me your phone, Beth,” she demands, holding her hand out ready for it. “Wait here, I’m going to call the bastard right now!”
The phone is already at her right ear when she marches out into the living room, closing the door behind her and putting a firm boundary between us and the conversation that’s about to occur. Of course, Beth and I look at each other only momentarily before running over to the door to listen in.