The Fighter

Chapter 19: Living Without Him

After that conversation, I was devastated, wrecked, broken, empty... all of it. Read any book about the destruction of a major civilization and you'd get some idea.

That night I had not come out of my room once, not even to pee. (I waited untill everyone was asleep for that.) I figured I'd just wallow in my sheets and ignore everyone and everything. I left a chair propped under my door knob and eventually fell asleep to the sounds of my stomach growling.

In the morning I had woken up to my mother banging on my door. "Come on!" She said. "Let me in."

I just received her words, lying still amongst my pillows, my eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

"Sophia Edna!" She said causing me to cringe. "Sophia Edna! Sophia-"

"Okay! Please stop!" I muttered. "And it's a Saturday. Are you really trying to wake me up at 8:30a.m. on a Saturday?"

"Oh thank God, you're alive!" Then I heard some mumbling. "She's alive everyone."

I couldn't imagine who this "everyone" was and why I wouldn't be alive. "Go away." I said, stretching and bringing myself into sitting position.

"She likes me more than you, Mrs. Taylor." I heard Laura's voice outside. "No offense."

"I hate everyone." I yelled back, rubbing the back of my head in pain. I had a severe migraine.

"She hates me less than you, Mrs. Taylor." Came Laura's voice again.

"Yes." I said. "That is true." I then forced myself to open the door for the crew outside which included my mother, Laura, an angry Josh and Sal Garbanzo.

Yes. Sal Garbanzo.

Immediately I covered my chest with my arms, mostly because I was bra-less as most people don't sleep with a bra and I didn't need Sal Garbanzo seeing ... anything he shouldn't. Needless to say I was uncomfortable.

I glanced at Josh whose baggy eyes met mine. His hair was sticking up in all directions making it the worst case of bedhead I'd ever seen. "I was just making sure..." He trailed off. I knew what he was doing and just nodded in a way that made him stop saying what he was going to say. He was making sure I didn't do anything... stupid.

Laura, glowing like always, pushed her way past the crowd and into my room. I watched as she made herself comfortable on my bed, kicking off her sneakers and laying back on my pillow. My mouth was still wide open.

My mother looked me up and down before saying softly, "I made you pancakes, and this time they're... wait for it, Pride Pancakes."

Pride Pancakes? "Why is Sal Garbanzo here?" I said in a panicked manner. I glanced at him and tried to ignore the cloud of cologne swallowing us all like the fog in a Scooby Doo episode.

My mother opened her mouth but before she could say anything Sal stepped forward. "I'm a licensed psychologist, hun."

I didn't hold back the flared nostrils that accented the disgusted look on my face. "Yeah...so?"

"You need a psychologist." He said.

"No I don't."

"You do."

"How about you, you know, leave?"

"Sophie!" My mother said.

"What do you mean 'Sophie'?" I said waving my hands in emphasis. "Why in God's name did you bring him," I pointed at the caricature of a man that stood before me, "to our house?" I was wringing my hands now. "Why?"