"Hey, I have some-"
"And the friends I have all think I'm weird. Look at the burden I have. Every day I listen to stories of self-doubt, self-hate, of running away, of disappearing, of suicide, of hurting themselves and others. Every day. And all because of you."
"Baby, you know I didn't have control over what happened to me-"
"I know that, Mom," Tammy said. "But you decided to stay around. You decided to raise us normally. Except there was no normal, not anymore. Dad knew that. He knew you would hurt us in the end. And look at all the trouble you caused us. Anthony is a walking freak show-"
"Hey-"
I said, "That's not nice-"
"No, it's not nice," said Tammy, cutting me off. "It's a terrible thing to say about your little brother. A brother who could beat up a dozen men at once-"
"Well, it was like four. Maybe five-" Anthony said.
"A son who can turn into a goddamn monster-"
"That's enough, young lady-"
"The fire warrior isn't a monster," said Anthony. "He's a warrior. It's in his name. Duh."
"A name you gave him, dumbass."
"You will go to your room, young lady-"
"You know I'm right. And you know that you have been selfish by staying around. You know that we would have been better off if you had run away. Far away. I wouldn't be what I am. And Anthony would be-"
"Dead," said her little brother. "I would be dead."
"Or so Mom says. We have to take her word for it, don't we? The doctors might have saved you. You were at St. Jude's, the best children's hospital in the world."
Except I knew my daughter could see what I had seen in those dark hours. The black halo of death around my son. He had been on the brink of death, and she knew it. But was there a sliver of truth to what she said? Could he have survived and I unnecessarily and irrevocably altered my son's life?
"The answer is yes, Mom. You are selfish and terrible, and you are the real monster here." And with that, she marched out and slammed the bedroom door. Then slammed her door too.
Anthony looked at me and whistled. "Bitches be crazy."
Chapter Twenty-four
After chastising Anthony for calling his sister a bitch-and implying that all women were bitches-I called Kingsley and asked him to come over. Kingsley reminded me that he was a very important defense attorney with many high-stakes cases pending. I reminded him what we'd done a few nights ago, in bed. He said he would be right over.
Kingsley was with them now, and she wasn't very happy about it. Kingsley arrived bearing pizzas. Lots and lots of pizzas. Enough for ten people. Hell, twenty people. I made the boys promise to save a slice or two for Tammy. She still wasn't talking to me, and that was fine. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk to her either, not right now, not after her outburst.
Besides, she had given me a lot to think about.
Which is exactly what I had done, high overhead. In fact, I spent the rest of the evening flying and thinking and mulling over just about every decision I'd ever made. Talos listened and offered advice, and in the end, I knew I had to accept responsibility for everything. Maybe not for my initial attack, but everything after that.
Talos reminded me that I needed to be easy on myself and that I had done the best I could, under the circumstances, and I thanked my flying friend, but, ultimately, I knew Tammy was right. I had been selfish, and I had put everyone in harm's way. I liked to believe that I had also been loving and kind and helpful, that I had been there for them in ways that other mothers couldn't, but that didn't stop the burden of guilt from weighing me down and making me feel like shit all over again.
I flew and I flew and I might have kept on flying-and giving my daughter her wish-except I still had a job to do, and it was almost midnight.
***
I dropped down on Charlie Reed's roof, alighting quieter than most people would believe. There, I saw myself in the single flame-a rare chance for me to actually see myself from head to toe-and immediately transitioned from something big and scary, to something cute and maybe a little scary.
I'd carried with me a small tote bag with my essentials: rolled jeans and sweater, Asics, wallet and my phone. No bra and no panties. I was changing on his rooftop, for crissakes. Who had time for all that? Besides, I'd been blessed-or cursed, depending on who you asked-with a small chest, which only seemed to have shrunk in my immortality. They don't tell you that in all those vampire romance books.
In two shakes of a lamb's tail, as my mother would say, I was dressed and dropping down from the roof. That it was two stories high mattered not at all. I landed easily, my knees painlessly absorbing the drop. I stumbled maybe only a fraction. Good enough.