A Place In This Life

Chapter 25

There are certain things I welcome with open arms. One is the bathroom, when I have to pee so bad that my bladder feels like an uber-full water balloon. Another is a box of See's Candies, whether it's given to me or I eat through my mother's box. And when summer comes around, I give the last day of school the biggest, most welcoming hug of all. It felt so good to be out of school! Finally, I wouldn't have to face borderline grades, snotty OC princesses and, most of all, Alex and Kyra.

But I did wonder what was happening with the baby, whether she'd go into hiding over the summer and emerge like a beach ball, waddling around school in fashionable maternity rags. I would have months before I had to worry about seeing something like that.

In the meantime, Cara was spending 10 days with her parents in Brazil before returning just in time for my birthday. As for me, I wouldn't have wanted to spend any more time than usual with my parents in a vacation situation than I had to. And this year I wouldn't.

Todd was going to rent a boat from his friend's dad and take us over to the island after my 18th birthday, making us "both legal and liable," as he put it. My dad was less than happy about his daughter running off and doing grownup things.

As for my birthday, I planned to have my family, Cara, and Todd over to the house for dinner, cake and presents. My mom offered to put on a themed party, like the ones she used to throw when I was little, complete with pin-the-tail on the donkey, the memory game and a piñata. Sure, it would have been fun to be 10 again and eat Knox Blox with my friends, but I turned down the offer in favor of a plain, boring grown-up party.

"Straight-up dinner, cake, presents, goodbyes. Unless you want to buy us beer, and then it would be beer, dinner, more beer, maybe cake, presents and everyone crashing in the living room," I said to my dad, with the slightest hope that he would go for it.

"That's not legal, and we can't be responsible for anyone who drinks, drives and has an accident. So, no. Sorry, Nally," he said

"I was only kidding."

"There's nothing to kid about when it comes to drunk driving," he said.

The busy plans and preparations for my birthday and the trip didn't stop me from spending a great deal of time with Todd. After he fell off the wagon and got back on again, we started taking day trips to L.A. in search of cool stuff, as well as Venice Beach, to search for stuff of another kind. No matter how I talked myself into it, I couldn't shake feeling uncomfortable about Todd buying pot.

As for the harder stuff, I never saw him do it, but had my suspicions, as his "friends" came around a lot and would linger until I went home. Then it would days before I heard from Todd again. He would call me out of the blue, all uppity-up and excited about everything, and then just as quickly become grouchy and a royal pain in the ass.

There were also periods when he didn't feel so up. Instead, he would ache a little, cough a lot more and need to call it a day before the sun went down. I figured it was his body still coming back from the chemotherapy. He would have to start remission treatment soon, but kept ignoring doctor's orders to get his butt into the hospital. Cheryl didn't push him, either, and I gave up trying because Todd was as stubborn as a mule.

He'd get headaches, too. They would last for days and put Todd in a foul mood, angry with other people and cause him to lose his appetite. Again, I figured this was all part of recovery. Todd thought otherwise.

"Something's happening," he'd mutter, chain-smoking Marlboros on the grass outside his apartment, watching the boats go by.

"Like what? With your health?"