The next morning, Nate and Selena were at the hospital. The second they spotted Veronica, they rushed across the linoleum floors to talk to her.
"How is she?" Nate asked, his expression anxious. She could see the tiredness etched across his features. Selena didn't look any better.
"She is fine," Veronica said, reaching out and gently patting Nate's arm. "Asleep, but fine."
She pointed to the room Charlotte was in. "They ran some additional tests to make sure everything was okay. She has a hairline fracture, but that's it."
She led them inside the room. When Selena saw Charlotte sleeping on the bed, a small sob escaped her lips.
"How did it happen?" Nate asked, comforting his wife.
Veronica shrugged. "I don't know. She said someone rammed into her from the side."
She saw Nate flinch at her words. "She's okay. That's what matters," he said to Selena.
Charlotte stirred in the bed, waking up from their voices. Rubbing her eyes, she saw her parents standing before her.
"Oh," Selena said, rushing ahead and hugging her daughter. "Lottie, my baby. Are you okay?"
Veronica smiled to herself, watching the three of them. Sneakily, she stepped out, not wanting to intrude on their private moment.
She had spent the night at the hospital and it showed. Her clothes were completely wrinkled, and her eyes were puffy from barely sleeping the whole night.
"Oh, you are up!" Chan said, coming up from behind her. Despite her protests, he had refused to go home. Unlike her, he still looked decent. He was holding two cups in his hands. Veronica smelled the coffee and smiled.
"Where did you manage to get this?" she asked. The coffee machine had broken down last night, spitting out warm greyish water instead of its designated hot drink.
"There was a bakery right across the corner," he explained. "I asked one of the nurses. Why are you standing outside, though?"
Veronica blew over her coffee and took a sip. "Nate and Selena are here. I wanted to give them some privacy."
Chan opened his mouth to say something, but Nate stepped out of Charlotte's room.
"Christopher," he said, noticing Chan. "Thank you for calling us last night and for staying here."
Chan shook his head. "It's no problem at all. I am just glad that Charlotte's okay."
Nate smiled. He still looked pretty shaken, but talking to his daughter had helped calm him down. "Yeah, what matters is that Lottie is okay."
"Do you know when they'll discharge her?" Veronica asked.
"The doctor is doing his final checkups, and then we can take her home." The relief in Nate's voice was apparent.
"That is good," Veronica said and yawned. "Can I help with anything?"
"Yes," Nate said, smiling down at her. "Go home and rest up. You've been here all night, you must be tired."
Veronica made a face. "No. I am perfectly fine. I will stay and help."
Nate turned to face Chan, a what-should-we-do-with-her look on his face. Chan just shrugged in response.
"Take her home, buddy," he said to Chan. "It isn't ideal for a birthday girl to spend her day at the hospital."
Veronica couldn't believe that he had remembered it. Despite everything, Nate remembered something so insignificant. Veronica wasn't particularly fond of her birthday. Her mother had never remembered it. Or celebrated it. For Veronica, it was just another day of the week.
"Yes," Chan agreed, looping his arm through hers. "You are absolutely right." Gently, he began dragging her out of the hallway.
"But," Veronica said, trying to argue.
"No buts," Nate said, waving his hand in goodbye. "Sleep."
Before Veronica knew, she was out of the hospital and standing in the parking lot. It was early in the morning, but the air of chilly.
"I am not tired," Veronica huffed, dumping her cup in the trash.
Chan rolled his eyes. "Your eyes are bloodshot. You barely slept the whole night. You'll make yourself sick."
As if he had summoned it, Veronica sneezed. He clicked his fingers together. "See, I told you. God, why are you like this?"
Veronica had to smile at the way he was fussing over her. As if she was a kid. She had been looking after herself all her life. By now, it was an instinct. She knew she was on her own. And yet, she couldn't deny that it felt nice to have Chan worry about her. The warm feeling in her chest scared her. She didn't want to get used to feeling like this. She couldn't afford to.
"I am fine, Chan," she said, walking ahead to where his car was parked. "I don't get sick that easy."
He got in after her, still muttering something under his breath. Even though she didn't want to admit it to anyone, she was tired. Sitting in Chan's car, she felt the lull of sleep. The wave of exhaustion crashed over her.
Shaking her head, she sat up straighter. She couldn't sleep in his car. She had to distract herself.
Turning towards Chan, she asked, "How did it go with Diana's party? Did something happen?"
She watched as Chan shifted in his seat a little before replying. "No. Nothing happened. We barely talked before I left."
Veronica tsked. "It's okay. We'll figure something else out."
They had to fast-track this plan. If the warm fuzzy feelings in her chest that she had experienced a while ago were any indication, Veronica had to hurry before anything permanent took root.
Chan stopped at her apartment. She removed her seatbelt and went to open the door. "Thank you for coming over."
"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" Chan asked, ignoring her gratitude.
Veronica exhaled. "I don't celebrate my birthday, Chan. I honestly forgot about it until Charlotte wished me at midnight." She got out of the car, giving him a parting smile.
She had barely made it to her apartment when her phone rang. Scared that it was Nate or Selena informing that something had happened to Charlotte, she picked it up without seeing the number.
"Hello?"
"Hello," the voice on the other end said. It was a woman's voice, but definitely not Selena's. "Am I talking to Miss Lovejoy?"
Veronica unlocked her apartment. "This is her."
"Hello, Ms. Lovejoy," the woman said. "I am speaking from your bank. There has been a small issue."
"What issue?" Veronica asked, taking off her coat. Pumpkin had come to welcome her by trying to climb up her pants.
"Well, it seems that a recent deposit that you tried to make was unsuccessful."
Veronica was too tired for this. "What deposit?" She opened up her fridge and drank some water. And then it hit her. "Wait, you mean to Helena Lovejoy's account?"
The woman responded in affirmative. Veronica closed the fridge and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," the woman said. Veronica heard the sound of some keys clacking. "In fact, the last two payments you made to her bounced back as well. Apparently, she closed her account."
Veronica scrunched her eyebrows. "Closed her account? When?"
The woman's voice was tentative when she said, "That's confidential information. I can not disclose it, unfortunately."
Veronica bit the inside of her cheek as she hung up the phone. Why would her mother close her bank account? It didn't make any sense. Veronica had been sending her a small part of her salary every month. To help Helene out. She knew her mother didn't make that much at the diner. Was it Eddie? Had he forced her to close it? She wouldn't put it past him.
Grabbing her coat and putting on her shoes, she left her apartment. There was only one person who could answer this, and it was her mother.
She first decided to stop by the diner, unaware of her mother's working schedule. The manager, Martha, told Veronica in no polite terms that her mother wasn't working that day.
Martha either pretended that she didn't remember Veronica or she had honestly forgotten. Either way, Veronica was in no mood to remind her.
"Do you know where she might be?" Veronica asked, tapping her foot against the marble floor.
Martha shrugged, an annoyed expression on her face. "I don't know. Or care. She usually walks around, drunk out of her senses."
Veronica felt her face heat up as she mumbled a small thanks and left the diner. Squinting her eyes against the bright sun, she contemplated the mental ramifications of heading to her mother's place.
She hadn't been inside that house in years. Just the mere thought of it brought up memories that she had worked so hard to bury deep into the back of her mind. She didn't know how it would feel to stand between those walls again.
She decided to revisit some of Helene'a regular haunts before resorting to that option. She still remembered her way around the neighborhood. Everything looked the same. Houses with chipped paints and broken windows. Sounds of men arguing in the distance followed by shouts of children running around. Veronica had grown up on these streets, and yet it all felt like a fever dream. Something she had just imagined.
She spotted the bar her mother frequented the most. The number of times she had dragged her mother out of this place and back home was countless. The owner used to call her, swearing and throwing insults at her because her mother would start causing a scene or refusing to pay her bills.
As she entered the place, the smell that hit her sent her back in time. She had a vivid flashback of coming into the bar just to find her mother sprawled on the floor, out of her senses. She used to spend hours sitting next to her, waiting for Helene to sober up. This was before Veronica realized what an absolute fuckup her mother was.
The air smelled rancid. Cheap beer, no windows and sweat. She tried not to throw up. The place looked the same with old wooden furniture that looked on the verge of dismantling if Veronica sneezed hard enough. Looking around, she scanned the crowd for her mother.
It was twelve-thirty in the afternoon, and there were already people sitting at the bar nursing their drinks. And then she saw her, sitting in a dark corner, bent over a glass of whiskey.
She made her way towards her mother, shuddering at the disgusting looks thrown in her direction by the men sitting on the stools.
Grabbing an empty seat beside her, she tapped her mother on the shoulder. She looked up. Veronica remembered the last time she had seen her mother. The horrible stuff she had said to her. And tried to swallow the bile rising in her throat. Looking at her mother was always hard. She could see the toll of the years on her face and, at the same time, remember every horrible thing she had done.
"What are you doing here?" Her mother slurred, clearly drunk.
Veronica ignored the empty feeling in her stomach. "Did you close your bank account?" She asked, cutting directly to the chase. The lesser time she spent in her mother's company, the better.
Helene made a confused face and took a sip of her drink. "What are you talking about?"
Veronica exhaled, grabbing onto the last reminants of patience she had. "I got a call from my bank that the money I deposit in your account monthly bounced. That you closed your account."
Her mother stopped drinking and put down her cup. "Yes. I did."
Veronica waited for an explanation. Watching Helene. Her mother looked the same. Too thin and gaunt. "Why did you do it?" She finally asked.
"Anything to drink?" The bartender asked. The man was in his fifties, with a heavy built and long greying beard. The he way he was looking at Veronica made her squirm.
"Nothing," she replied, looking away.
Her mother jumped in, a devious smile on her face. "She'll have what I am having."
The bartender nodded, sparing one last look in Veronica's direction before pouring her some whiskey and sliding it across to her.
Veronica had no intention of drinking it, but she still held on to the glass. "Mom, why did you close it?"
Her mother finally shifted in her seat and looked at her daughter. "Because I wanted to." She shrugged. "What is it to you?"
"Why would you want it?" Veronica questioned, prying in deeper. "How will you get your salary? Did Eddie ask you to do it?"
At the mention of his name, Helene stilled. Veronica knew her mother. Ever since she was a little kid, she had learned to understand Helene's body language.
"He did," Veronica breathed. "Didn't he?"
"It's none of your business," her mother snapped.
Veronica let out a choked laugh. "How could you do this? Why would you let him control you financially?"
Helene motioned for the bartender to top up her drink. "He's not controlling me. We decided on managing our finances together. And why are you even butting in. It's my life."
"I am butting in because my deposit got bounced back," Veronica explained, her voice exasperated. "I am butting in because you are making a stupid decision. He wants to control you by controlling your money. Eddie-"
"Don't say anything about him." The bite and venom in her mother's voice shut her up.
Veronica gulped. Trying to collect her thoughts. "Why do you like him?" She asked.
Helene took a sip of her drink. "None of your business."
"None of my- you say it's none of my business when you dragged him into our lives," Veronica said, her voice shaking. Pulling up her left sleeve, she shoved her arm in front of her mother's face. "You see this scar? I have it because Eddie broke a beer bottle on my arm. Do you remember that?"
Helene didn't say anything. But she didn't look away either. Her eyes wide. Veronica went on, unable to control the flux of emotions. "Do you remember when he came to the house drunk and started breaking all the plates in the kitchen by throwing them against the wall?"
"It," Helene started, her voice dry. "Why are you bringing this all up?"
"Because I don't understand what it is about him that you can't let him go?" Veronica almost shouted before controlling her voice. "You didn't care that he was a drug addict. You didn't care that he stole from you. You didn't care when he broke the window to our house and you got injured. You still don't care when he's taken over your account so that he has access to all the money he needs to shoot up more drugs in his system. You -"
Her mother banged her hand against the wooden table, making Veronica jump. "Shut up! Just shut the fuck up." She leaned in so close that Veronica could smell the alcohol on her breath. "Why are you here? Why can't you leave properly? If you hate me so much, why do you keep coming back? I don't ask you to. And yet you keep showing up where you are not wanted. Do you want to know why I care about Eddie so much?" Helene bared her teeth. "It's because he's all I ever had. He's all that's been there for me."
"I was there for you," Veronica replied, her voice meek. "You had me."
"I didn't want you," her mother snarled.
Veronica jerked back as if she had been slapped. She had known this, but hearing this from her mother punched a hole in her heart. She reeled from the blow of it.
"Then why did you have me?" She asked, unable to stop the words from coming out of her mouth.
Her mother shrugged and went back to her drink, ignoring Veronica's existence. She stared at Helene for a few more breaths before nodding and drowing the whiskey before her in one go. The liquid burnt as it slid down her stomach.
Getting off the barstool, she left the establishment. Her heart was pouding in her chest, and Veronica could feel the air slipping from right under her nose. Grabbing a lamp pole, she leaned against it. Her vision went blurry before her eyes, and Veronica feared that she might faint, or worse. She tried taking in bigger breaths and exhaling through her mouth and picked one thing in her surroundings to focus on. It was a pink bike parked on the other side of the street. She had a similar one when she was in school. She had saved up for it for months before she had been able to buy it second-hand.
She focused on its deep pink color. The black handles and leather seat. She noticed the silver bell and wondered what it sounded like. The more she focused on it, the easier her breaths came. A few more moments passed before her breathing returned to normal, and her vision cleared.
Still taking support of the pole, she got up. She needed to drink some water, but more importantly, she needed to leave this place. It was a stupid idea coming here and expecting to have any conversation with her mother. Helene had proved it a million times that Veronica was never a priority for her. That she cared nothing for her. And yet, Veronica kept coming back. What did she expect? That her mother would hug her? Apologise? She chuckled at the stupidity of that thought.
"Ronnie?" She froze up at the sound of the voice. Her insides curdling.
Eddie stood behind her, his hands in his pockets. He was grinning in a way that made Veronica wince.
"It is you!" He said, his voice booming across the street. Veronica could tell that he was no sober. She could smell the alcohol on him.
She made a move to walk past him, but he grabbed her hand. The moment his skin touched him, nausea rose in her throat. She had to remind herself that she was no longer helpless. That if she wanted, she could dislocate his arm. He was not in power anymore.
Jerking her arm back, she broke his grip. "Don't touch me."
He raised his arms up in surrender, chuckling. He found this amusing. "It is a surprise to see you here! You never visit us. We are family."
Veronica wanted to take that last word and throw it in his face. "Family? Who?"
He tsked and massaged his chest. He looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes tattered. The greyish tint to his skin had gotten deeper since the last she had seen him. He looked to be rotting. "You wound me. Are we not a family? You, me, and Helene?"
Veronica blinked. His face was making it hard for her to keep herself from spiraling again. She didn't think she hated someone more than him. But the reason why he was even standing here talking to her was her mother. And for that one moment, she hated her mother more.
"You and mom," Veronica said, taking a step away from him. "Genuinely deserve each other."
She walked away before he could say something else. Fishing out her phone from her purse, she called Cassie.
"What's up, babygirl?" Cassie answered. "I was about to call you. Do you want to -"
"Can you come pick me up?" Veronica asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
The change in Cassie's tone was immediate. "Where are you?"
Veronica quickly explained to her best friend where she was. Cassie didn't say a word. Once Veronica was done, she said, "I will be there in fifteen minutes." Veronica heard the sound of an engine being started. "I am coming."