Chapter 21
Virginia: Six Years Later
Today was the day. My stomach was all butterflies. I'd finished the bar exam and been notified my results would be available after midnight. I'd taken sleeping pills instead of staying up. Sleeping pills and I were old friends now.
Over the last six years, I'd kept up my grades. I'd had a few missteps, a few B's, but I'd destroyed the evidence or else forged test results, and with a lot of extra credit, I'd managed to keep my GPA at a perfect 4.0. I was driven to excel in every class, to show my mother she couldn't refuse me.
That bar exam though, studying for it nearly killed me. The stress was still heavy on my mind, but it was over now. If I could just pass, I could convince my mother to let me call Brent again. That thought had been my single driving motivation.
I leapt out of bed, throwing open the window, breathing in the outside air. It was a hot July afternoon. Birds chirped and fluttered by. The clouds were beautiful below me while the sky was bright red.
"Another beautiful day!"
I rushed downstairs in my pajamas, my feet not even touching the floor. I was so excited.
"Good morning, Mom," I said.
"Ginny, sweetheart, you're up early."
"Today's the day. Remember, my results? I'm going to pass. I know it! And then we're going to talk about you-know-who." I was forbidden from saying his name.
"Ginny, it's 6:00 a.m. I haven't even had my coffee."
"Mmm, coffee! I'll have his delicious mocha cappuccino again! Remember, Mom, you promised."
Diana sighed. "If your Nana were still alive, she'd tell you how foolish you were behaving right now."
"What do you mean, Mom? I've done everything you asked."
"Yes, you have, but I've already looked up your bar results online."
"You saw them? How did I do?" I said excitedly. "I studied so hard. I know I did amazing!"
My mother pointed at the wall. The results were written in blood: 265/400. "You needed a 266 to pass."
The hot day turned cold as I heard the thunder crash outside, and the rain smashed against the windows. The floor flooded, soaking my feet with cold water, ice cubes everywhere. "No!"
"Yes. You failed."
"No!"
"Now, I don't ever want to hear about that boy again! Come help with the pies."
"The pies? Quinn will make them!"
"No, she's too busy with Tom and the baby."
"Mom, can't I retake the test next year? Please, I'll do better! I'll get a perfect score!"
"All right then. Maybe."
"Really?" Hope filled my heart and the storm vanished but the water remained. My mother and I floated up to the ceiling where it was drier. "Tell me what I have to do to see him again."
"Pass the bar with a perfect score, and then go work for your aunt Olivia. After you've won your first 10 cases, I'll consider it again."
"After I've won 10 cases?" I cried.
"And if you lose even one of those cases, you'll have to wait until you've been made partner."
"No, no, no, that's impossible! That's decades away!"
I fell off the ceiling and splashed into the floor. My mother's skin was bright red and her demon wings flapped to keep her in the air. She pointed her pitchfork at me.
"You should thank me!"
The room tilted on its side and the water on the floor crashed over me.
"Thank me!" Diana the demon demanded. "Thank me!"
I was trying to thank her, but the water kept crashing over my face, filling the room. The pies were floating away.
"Save the pies!" the demon cried. "Save the pies!"
I crashed through the window, glass slashing my body. I swam up, bursting through the top of my shattered phone, breathing the air. I climbed out of the phone and then picked it up. My fingers were trembling from the cold as I looked at the dial pad. I would call Brent right now. He would answer, and I'd tell him I was going to run away with him. I stared at the phone. I knew the number, didn't I? It had only been 10 years. Or was it 12? Wasn't I a law partner now? I couldn't remember. Why couldn't I remember? No, no, no! It was hopeless!
Fortunately, the phone rang. I answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, Ginny. It's me, Beau."
"Oh, Beau, thank goodness! I'm so glad you called. It's been 12 years, and my mother says we still can't be together. I'm ready to run away."
"About that, I'm with another woman now."
"But you promised to wait!"
"I know, but whoops! I'm happier anyway, because she's not ashamed to be with me, so goodbye!"
"But I love you!" I cried.
"No, you love your family's money. You love your lifestyle. You love the prestige of a rich girl in New York City. You love Tiffany's, and Gucci, and Saks, and the Plaza and parties and dresses, and you love the way the poor look at you. That's what you love."
"I love you," I said. "I swear, I love you more than all of those things."
"Then you should have opened my envelope."
The water poured out of my phone, right over my face, drowning me, filling up the room. I twisted and twirled under it, suffocating, no direction to swim to reach the shore.
I sat up, gasping, the room dark. I hit the light switch next to my bed.
"Oh, dear God," I said, lying back down, the light burning my eyes as I stared at the ceiling.
I remembered now. I'd said goodbye to Brent hours ago. I couldn't sleep, so I'd taken sleeping pills. I felt them in my system, dragging me down into the dark, begging me to sleep. I looked at the clock: 2:00 a.m. It was Christmas morning.
I'd fallen asleep with Brent's envelope beside me. It scared me to open it. If I did, the temptation to go after him would be immense. I planned to wait a week, just one week to open it. But now, in this moment, after having that awful nightmare, I couldn't stand not knowing. I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter and a hotel key that said, "All the Way Inn."
Dear Ginny,
I'm on my way to your family home now. If you're reading this, I was at least successful in seeing you again. Or I may have tied this letter to a rock and thrown it through your window. In which case, I am sorry about the window. I know you're scared of what I said, the offer to run away with me. I know you live an amazing life of comfort and privilege and giving it up would be hard. And I know you love your family and giving them up would be even harder. I know all this, so please know that it's only a foolish hope of mine that you'll accept when I ask you to run away with me.
I have to ask you to run away, because it's the only way I know how to be together. If I never asked, if I didn't fight for it, beg for it, I would never be able to live with myself. I've heard that phrase before, and I never really understood it. How can someone not live with themselves? But I get it now. Living with yourself is waking up in the morning and facing the day, knowing you make your own fate. Not being able to live with yourself is knowing you had a chance, and you didn't take it. It's hating the person in the mirror because they're the one who failed you the most. I can't live like that. So, I have to try.
With this letter is a hotel key. It's not a fancy hotel. It's just a room with a bed and four walls. It's unworthy of you, and you deserve so much more, but I can't offer you more. What I can offer you is my love, and I hope that my love will make up for all the things I can never give you, because it really is the only thing that I am rich in. I could make you rich with love, so rich that it would overflow from your pockets, that you wouldn't know what to do with all of it, that you'd feel guilty when you walked down the street, because you'd see others, other women and men, who were less fortunate in love, and you'd pity them. You'd wish you could give them even a single coin of the love that is pouring out of your pockets. But you can't, because only you can spend my love. Only you can enjoy it. Only you will ever possess it.
I don't say that flippantly. I know I will never love again as deeply as I love you. All I can do is bank my love, so when I next see you, be it today, tomorrow, a week, a month, a year, a decade, you'll be able to jump in and swim around, splashing the coins of love I've saved up for you. If you decide to cash in, the bank is here at this hotel. The bank has good hours, but you have to choose to walk in. You can't cash the check any other way but in person. I hope you choose to be with me.
Loving you forever from afar,
Brent
I wiped a tear from my eye. Was it worth fighting for, the love that Brent was giving me? Or was I going to keep fighting to stay in a family that was emotionally bankrupt?
"What the hell is wrong with me?" I said out loud.
I finally realized that even though I complained so often about not being able to make my own decisions, I was making them. The problem was I only made easy decisions. It was the hard decisions I was scared of. But not anymore. I went to my desk and pulled out a piece of paper. I wrote very quickly.
Mother, Father, I hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me, and to love me again whenever it is that we next see each other. Until that day, know that I am living my best life with the man I love. I ask nothing of you, only that you respect my decision and do not come after me or try to hurt me. Thank you, and I wish the best for both of you.
Love, Ginny
I taped it to my vanity and then grabbed my backpack. I stuffed in a pair of jeans, a few tops, socks, and lots of panties. I didn't have much else at this house, but it was enough, just a change of clothes. And then I dressed in jeans, a bra, a tank top, and a sweater. I wore sneakers.
I called a cab and gave them my address. Then I moved through the house silently, going to Quinn's room. I opened her door and snuck in, putting my hand over her mouth in dramatic fashion. She woke up horrified. I shushed her and moved my hand.
"What are you doing?" Quinn hissed.
"Saying I love you and goodbye."
"Oh, no, Ginny. You're not. You can't."
"I have to. I can't live my life wondering what I missed. I love him too much."
"But what about school, your family, your life."
"I realized... I really don't care. Yeah, I'll miss you like hell. Nana too. And my brother when he's around. I'll even miss my mom when she's not being a psycho, and my dad when he's not stressed, but this life we're living, I think I'm tired of it. I just want Brent now. I want love. After 18 years of cold from my mother, don't I deserve a little warmth?"
"You're serious."
"Yes. Hug me. This is goodbye."
Quinn hugged me. "Text me? Please."
"I will. I'm keeping the burner phone."
"Good," she said.
"We'll see each other again after everyone calms down. I'll visit, but only if they let me bring Brent."
"God, you're so crazy."
I looked at her. "Don't let them take Sergio away. He's a total perv, but he loves you."