Chapter Text
July 4, 1990.
The Camaro pulls up in front of the old trailer in the Nevada desert. A hot gust blows. Silver chimes glint and ring in the arid wind.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Billy turns the radio down to a soft hum.
“Yes,” Patricia nods grimly. “I’ve been putting it off for too long.” She licks the taste of salt off her lips, wiping a trickle of sweat from her brow, her flesh scorched enough to melt right off her bones. “This heat’s really starting to get to me.”
“Same. My skin’s sticking to the fucking seat.” Billy shifts in his jean shorts with a grimace, leather squeaking. He reaches over and touches her thigh with a low tone.“If you want me to come with, just say the word, babe.”
Patricia takes in the trailer next to them. A mirage blending into dust. “I think it has to be just me and her.”
“Alright.” He scans her over with a careful eye. A kiss finds her damp temple. “I love you.”
She wraps an arm around his shoulders. Nuzzles his neck. “I love you too.” She exits the vehicle, nerves whirl-pooling, her feet unrooted on the desert floor.
This moment. She’s been thinking about this moment for nearly ten years. She had failed at reunion during her last visit to Vegas. Now it’s finally coming to fruition. No turning back.
Patricia opens the chainlink gate. Burning air jets around her face, her hair billowing. The ramshackle flowerbed juts from under the window, scarlet begonias now withered up. She knocks at the door with an assurance she doesn’t feel, breath and heart doing a frantic dance in her throat.
A man opens the door. Craggy. Sun-browned. Black hair and blue eyes. He must have been handsome once. Some former Brando chewed up and spat out. “And who might you be, honey?” His voice curls towards her with a rustic twang.
“I’m here to see my mother.”
Piercing eyes narrow. “Mother?”
“Yes…” She tries to see past him, but he takes up the small doorframe. “Selene Des Barres.” Sweat glides cold down her spine. “She’s here, right?”
He blinks at her before glancing inside. Patricia gets the strong feeling now that Ma has never once mentioned a daughter to him. Despite the initial disappointment of that, it’s not a surprise.
“Hold on a sec.”
The door closes on Patricia, leaving her standing on the steps of the trailer, the sun beating down on her back. She looks behind at the Camaro where Billy watches. Shrugs at him.
The door opens again.“You can come on in. She’s just sitting down over here.”
Dread or anticipation? What is this feeling? She follows the man into the trailer, meets muggy heat. A fan buzzes in the corner, circulating the stifling air. A small television set blares The Home Shopping Channel.
Ma sits at a little kitchen table. Sunlight floods one side of her face, the other concealed in shadow.The years have not been kind to her. Her skin is worn leather. Dull eyes are painted up violet, tinged with the fog of opiates, lips red with sticky gloss. Thin brassy hair has been sprayed so it frames her face like a spider. Smoke coils around her head, a cigarette perched between two yellowed fingers.
It’s difficult not to compare this woman to her former self. To the vivacious, blonde beauty she once was.
But she’s alive. She’s alive and she’s looking at Patricia with that pale, unnerving stare.
“Well?”
That’s it. That’s all her mother has to say to her after all these years.
“Ma. It’s me.” Patricia’s voice comes out smaller than intended, thin and reedy.
“Oh, I know who you are, Pat. I’d recognize those sad, poor-me eyes a mile away. Thought you’d perk up with age, but I guess not.” Time hasn’t faded Ma’s acid tongue. She takes a slow drag, leans back slower to glare. “You put on weight, huh? Used to be a little slip of a thing.”
Patricia knew this was coming but the impact is still gut-punching as ever. She flinches despite the mental pep-talk she’s been giving herself in the days preceding this reunion. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t seen you in so long.”
Ma only stares, untouched. She glances at Patricia’s hand. “You married yet?”
Patricia peeks at the ring on her finger. Moonstone reflects rays of light over the kitchen cabinets. “Engaged.”
“He better be bringing home the bread for you. I always told you to find a man-“
“A man that buys me nice things?” Patricia finishes. “He’s far more than that. He gives me the world everyday.”
Ma’s lip curls. Never was the sentimental type. “You’ve changed.”
Her shoulders lift. “A lot can happen in a decade.”
“Why did you come here? Didn’t Doris treat you right? I told her to take care of everything.”
“She did. She treated me very, very well.”
Smoke clouds Ma’s face. “Good for her.”
A pause lingers.“Why didn’t you ever call?”
“I don’t like talking on the phone much.”
Patricia shifts her weight to her other leg. She inhales deeply, building the nerve to get years of repressed words off her chest.“I have something say to you.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Ma’s grin is both ugly and beautiful, a jarring flash of the nymph she once was.“Well speak up, girl. We’re all waiting for your big speech.”
“I forgive you for what you did to me.”
Ma scrunches her nose. “You what now?” She calls over to the former Brando who’s been hovering in the corner, watching. “You hear that, Harold? She forgives me! Hah!” Her eyes dig into Patricia again, that anger that was so volatile to her as a child, heating up once more. “Well, la-dee-dah, Patty. Look at you. Dressed like a three-dollar tramp, coming here to stir up trouble when I was doing just fine without you.”
Patricia forces herself to stand strong, chest rising.“I knew you’d say something like that. But I just want you to know, that despite how you treated me, the years of torture you put me through, I forgive you. I’m doing very well despite of you. Maybe even because of you. So thank you. I wouldn’t be me without you.”
Ma faces away to look out the window, sucking at her cigarette.
“Now that that’s settled, I have a gift.” Patricia reaches into the canvas tote bag around her shoulder, pulls out a magazine and tosses it on the kitchen table. Little Queen shines, Nevada sunlight bouncing off the glossy pink paper. “I’m publisher and writer for the best damn magazine in California. Here’s a copy. Special Edition.”
Ma spares a glance downwards, squints before staring out the window again. “Looks cheap.”
“You’re a riot, Ma.” Patricia glances around the shoddy trailer, shaking her head at the double standard. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
Despite the small moment of justice, Patricia’s heart hurts. She decides to end her visit here, the toxicity becoming more than she can bear. “I’m going to go now. I won’t be coming back. And when I step out of this trailer, I’ll never think of you again. I’m cleansed of you as of now.” She backs towards the rickety door. “Take care of yourself, Ma. Goodbye.”
She exits the trailer and returns to the Camaro, legs just as unsteady as before. Her chest still aches but a weight has no doubt been lifted. When she sees Billy’s face again, that lightness only increases.
“How was it?” he asks as she settles into her seat.
Patricia tilts her head back against the upholstery. Heaving a breath, she folds down the sun visor to shield her vision. “I let her go.”
Billy plants his palm on her knee. Warmth spreads up her leg to soothe her raw heart. “Proud of you, Trish.”
Patricia nods, takes pause before saying, “She cut me deep of course, but I think I did the right thing. Like some sort of justice was finally served.” She buckles her seat belt. “It’s over.”
Billy gives her knee a squeeze, her jaw a soft kiss. He slips shades on before pulling back out onto the road, his hand still on her leg. They drive in silence. The desert landscape rolls like old sepia film, cacti peaking from the earth like green sculptures. There’s a deep peace in this stoic scenery, a healing backdrop to this final farewell. The further they get from Ma’s trailer, the more Patricia’s resolve about her goodbye solidifies.
A chapter of her life is complete. A new one starts today.
As they approach the state border to leave Nevada, Patricia turns on the radio. “Do you think they play Californian stations out here?”
“Not sure.” Billy glances at her, then back to the road. “Give it a shot.”
She fiddles with the dial. Static winds in and out of her eardrums until she centers in on a familiar sound. “It’s a pretty choppy signal but this is a classic.” Led Zeppelin’s “Going to California” fuzzes around them, harmonies still apparent despite the lack of clarity. “Weird coincidence.”
When the song ends, the radio announcer cuts in: “Next is an up and coming metal band straight out of San Francisco. They just got signed to the independent label, Black Tar records. With some of the best musicianship this side of the Pacific, here’s Dire Wolf.”
Lightning crackles up Patricia’s arms and back, goosebumps mapping over her skin. Her hand slaps on Billy’s shoulder. “Oh my god! You’re on the radio!”
Billy’s brows rise behind his sunglasses. The opening notes to his new band’s latest single makes the speakers buzz, Dave’s signature guitar grooving rapidly over his feral percussion. He lets out a short chuckle. “Fucking finally.”
“What the hell!” She takes off her seatbelt with a squeal, leaning over to circle her arms around his neck, nearly strangling him. “How are you so cool about this? You’ve been waiting for this day forever!” Kisses pepper down his neck. “Be excited!”
“I am!” Billy laughs between their mouths meeting. “Jesus, Trish, you’re gonna make me drive off the damn road.” He cranes his neck to see around the woman currently showering him with affection. When she sits back in her seat, he breathes,“Last place I expected to hear my own song for the first time was in the middle of the desert. Kinda surreal.”
“I think it’s perfect.” She links her fingers through his. Helter-skelter drums make a cacophony of sound around them. “Today’s a new beginning. Don’t you just feel it?”
*
“I’d like the biggest piece, please.” Dave points as Auntie Doris cuts into her 4th of July cake: a homemade vegan extravaganza of red, white and blue. “The corner with the star.”
“There you go, sweetie.” Doris plops a giant slice on a crisp paper plate. “I’m looking forward to you serenading us. Pat keeps going on and on about your voice. Says you sing like a bird!”
Dave winks at Patricia, now astride Billy’s lap due to lack of available seats. “Guess I’ll try to live up to that.”
A circle has gathered in Doris’s living room, every hand-carved wooden chair taken by either hippie or metalhead. Patricia has never seen her aunt’s house this packed before. Clemmy and Rosco huddle in the corner by the peace lilies with a newspaper, having a heated debate about venue reviews for San Francisco versus Los Angeles. Dave’s boyfriend, Adam, has a rapt audience as he discusses various motorcycle adventures across the states.
“I’m so glad you all came,” Doris says to the room, handing Billy his piece of vanilla cake. “This is the best party I’ve had in years!” She looks affectionately at the couple before her. "Thank you so much, guys. Do either of you want a beer?" Billy shakes his head. She glances at Patricia. "Oh right, none for you, hun."
"We'll have to have you over sooner than later." Billy's fork slices through starry icing. "See our new apartment."
"Pat's told me all about it!" Doris smiles. "Two rooms and a view of the ocean. Not bad at all."
Billy nods."She's probably told you I refuse to live anywhere I can't see water. Took forever to find the right place."
"That's the reason it took you so long to move in together?" Doris unfolds a chair to sit.
"Uh..." Billy smirks at Patricia. "That's a whole other story in itself."
"I only move in with people I'm about to marry," Patricia quips. She steals a bite of Billy's cake after finishing her own.
When everyone has had their share of dessert, a knock raps at the door.
“I’ll get that.” Patricia sets her plate down and crosses to the foyer. She opens the door and nearly keels over. “Amy!”
Amy’s tanned and…transformed. Less put-together. More wild. A yellow baseball cap is fixed on her dark head of hair, now grown past her shoulders, the sleek bob cut a relic of the past. “I’m running on zero hours sleep and three cups of coffee, so if I collapse in your arms, don’t mind me.” She giggles before setting down her luggage, surrounding Patricia in a eucalyptus-scented hug.
“I thought you were going to be in Australia for another month!” Patricia pecks Amy’s cheek. "I'm so happy to see you!"
“Plans changed,” Amy beams. “California was calling me back home.”
“I've missed you so much. Letters weren't enough.” Patricia holds her closer, then retrieves Amy’s bag off the ground. “Come in, come in. Dave’s about to break out the guitar. Then you have to tell me all about your trip!”
As Amy makes her rounds of hello’s and gets her own piece of cake, Patricia returns to Billy’s lap. While she plays with his hair, Clemmy corners her with a newspaper in hand, freshly-dyed purple tresses catching the light. “I think you might want to see this, my friend.” She places the paper between Patricia's fingers.
A small section has been circled in red pen, the title in bold: MTV Exec Fired for Sexual Misconduct, Files Bankruptcy.
“No flipping way.” Patricia grips the paper, letting out a relieved laugh. “Am I dreaming? This day just keeps getting better and better.” She shifts so Billy can read the headline too.
“Yes!” Billy fist pumps the air. “Knew the asshole had it coming.” He hoists Patricia close to him for a tighter embrace. “No one fucks with Trish and gets away with it.”
“Justice is real, apparently." Patricia gawks at the print once more. "It just takes a long-ass time." Billy snorts at that.
They’ve been so engrossed in this good news, they haven’t yet noticed Dave fingerpicking at his guitar. Then his voice flows out rich and clear, carrying a whimsical melody.
Sugar magnolia, blossoms blooming…
“I love this song!” Auntie Doris claps a hand on her thigh to the beat. Her mug of organic beer raises in approval. “I didn’t know you were a Deadhead, Dave!”
She’s got everything delightful, she’s got everything I need, takes the wheel when I’m seeing double…
As Dave’s voice entrances, Doris sneaks over to Billy and Patricia with a whisper. “Did anyone here bring a joint?”
She’s got everything delightful, she’s got everything I need. A breeze in the pines, in the sun and bright moonlight, lazing in the sunshine, yes indeed…
“We might have made a stop in Malibu before we got here,” Billy hums. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out Uncle Ollie’s dextrously rolled homegrown, scanning Auntie Doris with a knowing grin. “Gotta say, I have a strong feeling you’d dig the guy that grows this stuff.”
Blooming like a red rose, breathing more freely…sunshine, daydream, sunshine, daydream…
When Dave takes a break to sample Auntie Doris’s beer, fingers twine. Billy guides Patricia out to the back patio deck where sun sets in luminous rose. They pass by party guests, circle down the stone path to the backyard orange tree, ocean salt mixing with sweet citrus air. Sitting on the bench under fertile branches, they watch water crest the shoreline. A perfect evening for a perfect day.
Billy drapes an arm around her shoulders as she rests her head in the crook of his neck. Light has shrunk to a sliver of gold when he eventually speaks. “Hey, back when you saw your mother…” His palm rounds over her stomach, cupping the slight bump. “Did you tell her?”
Patricia covers his hand with hers, keeps that loving warmth close. Imagines it emanating into her, nurturing new life there: the treasure they discovered two weeks after his proposal. “No.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
Patricia agrees. “Only love for this little one.”
Billy nestles Patricia into his chest. Her crown gets blessed with a kiss. “Seems like everything’s falling into place, baby.”
“It is.” Patricia drinks in the paradise horizon, joy filling every atom. “I’m free, Billy.” She looks to the sparkling blue sea, then into his eyes shining the same hue. “I’m finally free.”
* * *