and Carolyn hardly knew anything concrete about their youngest daughter’s wants and needs as she got older. Carolyn was too busy keeping tabs on Ernest to notice. After a while, nothing Ernest and Carolyn gave Donna seemed like it was enough. They poured money into any activity she picked up—gymnastics, soccer, synchronized swimming, lacrosse, equestrian sports, golf, polo, and tennis. Donna would grow bored and quit. She had grown spoiled and angry.
By the time she was seventeen, Donna was deep into Chicago’s party and drug scene. She fashioned herself as one of the brat-pack socialites from the Gold Coast, the most affluent part of Chicago. After all, she’d grown up with and become best friends with former child stars, the daughters of hotel magnates, and the children of rock stars. Late-night party scenes became her daily life. During those years, unflattering paparazzi pictures of Donna showed up at least two dozen times in People and Us magazines. When confronted, Donna would scream and throw tantrums. Carolyn had admittedly dropped the ball when it came to paying her youngest daughter the attention she was craving. Carolyn blamed Ernest for it all, and he blamed her in return.
“Mother,” a familiar voice called from behind Carolyn.
Carolyn snapped out of her reverie and popped up out of her seat. She cleared away the thoughts of her past life, which had been crowding her mind lately. Carolyn took in an eyeful of her youngest child, who was clearly not a child anymore. She tilted her head and clasped her hand over her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately when she went to grab for her daughter.
“Oh, sweetheart, you look amazing. This time away has done wonders. I am so proud of you,” Carolyn cried, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. Carolyn felt a warm feeling of relief wash over her. She stepped back and gazed at her daughter for a second. Donna finally looked like someone Carolyn and Ernest could be proud of.
Carolyn hugged and squeezed Donna again. “Thank God,” she whispered. She was really thanking God for bringing her daughter back from the brink of death. What would her friends have thought if Donna had succumbed to drug addiction? Carolyn would’ve suffered the worst embarrassment of her life. Carolyn shook off those worst-case scenarios and tried to relish the moment.
It was a miracle that Donna was even alive. The night Carolyn and Ernest had signed Donna involuntarily into the rehabilitation center, Donna had looked like death warmed over. Her skin had been ghostly pale, and dark rings had rimmed the bottom of her eyes. Donna’s dark hair was matted, and her body was gaunt, almost skeletal. She smelled like she hadn’t had a bath in weeks, and her clothes, although expensive, were filthy. Donna had been out on a binge for three weeks, and Carolyn and Ernest had been worried sick and had had people out scouring the entire city for her. It had been the first time they’d come together for anything in years, or at least when people weren’t around to watch them. Ernest had even hugged Carolyn a few of the nights they’d both sat up worrying about their daughter.
Donna kicked and screamed when she first arrived at the center. She cursed at her parents and told her mother she hated her. She screamed and begged Ernest not to let Carolyn sign her into the center. Donna blamed Carolyn for everything. Carolyn was an emotional wreck that night. She also blamed herself for it all, although she knew it wasn’t entirely her fault. Ernest remained cool as a cucumber, as usual. Little did Carolyn know at the time that her husband had already begun his battle with cancer.
“Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you,” Ernest repeated to his youngest daughter over and over again that night. He never once defended Carolyn or told his daughter that she needed help. It was something Carolyn filed in her mental Rolodex. The hurt she felt was almost tangible.
All of that was in the past, Carolyn told herself now. Just like all the other hurts she’d suffered at the hands of her children and her husband, Carolyn had swallowed this hurt like it was a hard marble. Seeing Donna now—her cheeks rosy, her body filled out in all the right places, her hair shiny—made Carolyn warm inside. Donna had taken the best of Carolyn’s and Ernest’s features. She stood almost six feet tall and was built like a runway model. She had long, slender legs, a small waist, and small breasts. Donna had exquisite thick jet-black hair and Ernest’s hazel eyes—the only one of their children to inherit them. She had also inherited Carolyn’s high cheekbones and perfect nose, and with Ernest’s prominent chin, her face was striking. From the time she was a small child, Donna had turned heads everywhere she went. She was more of a showstopper than both of her parents, to say the least.
Carolyn finally relinquished her grasp on Donna and gave her a good once-over. Carolyn smiled wide; she thought her daughter looked perfect. Donna was dressed conservatively in a maroon Donna Karan sheath dress that Rebecca had picked out, a pair of kitten-heeled Jimmy Choos, and a simple cardigan to top off her look. Donna finally looked like a wealthy young woman should. Carolyn was satisfied, but she still couldn’t say she was so proud to say that Donna was her daughter. It had always been a struggle to be a mother to Donna. Carolyn squeezed Donna and grabbed for Donna’s hand, hoping to get a return show of affection. But Donna impolitely let her arms hang limply at her sides. Carolyn knew right away that her daughter was in rare form . . . as usual. It was the norm for Donna to treat Carolyn like she had no regard for her at all. Still, Carolyn reached out again and took her daughter’s hand.
“How’s Daddy? Is he really too sick to come?” Donna asked petulantly.
Carolyn released her daughter’s hand quickly. She looked at Donna seriously. She wanted to scream in Donna’s face and say, “I am here for you! Isn’t that enough! Isn’t anything I do ever enough!” But Carolyn kept her thoughts to herself, and she kept smiling and kept doing what she did best—pretending.
“Oh, Donna, darling, this is your day. Don’t worry about him. You look so good, so healthy now,” Carolyn replied sympathetically. She cracked a phony smile and hugged her daughter again, hoping they could move off the subject of Ernest. “You are simply stunning. I can’t say that enough,” she added, flashing her plastic smile again. Nothing seemed to faze Donna.
“I guess you would say I look good now since you haven’t seen me in nine months. All you have to compare it to is the way I looked when you forced me into this hellhole,” Donna replied sharply as she squirmed out of her mother’s stifling embrace.
Carolyn felt like someone had slapped her across the face. She inhaled. It was taking all she had to keep it together now. Carolyn ignored the comment. She already felt awful enough about not visiting, but she’d figured that Donna needed time away without the influence of her parents. She also thought her spoiled child would understand about Ernest being sick.
Carolyn had also been afraid that if she visited, Donna would ask her questions about her father’s condition, which had steadily deteriorated over the months. Carolyn had always tried to shelter her children from anything negative about their father: sickness, his cheating, his bad business deals . . . everything. But Carolyn’s sugarcoating of Ernest’s indiscretions had only made her kids see her as the bad guy and Ernest as the hero in their lives. The past nine months had been no different. Ernest had been ailing, and Carolyn had covered it up. Pretending, faking like her life was still picture perfect, had become like a full-time job for Carolyn. But she had reached a point where she could hide Ernest’s illness any longer.
“So, are you ready to go home? You must be excited to get back to life. There are so many good things waiting for you. Whatever you want, you can have,” Carolyn singsonged, changing the subject while fidgeting with her newly purchased monstrous twelve-carat canary diamond ring. It was one of many things she’d purchased recently. Another thing she did when she was unhappy was making big purchases.
“Yeah, going home. I can hardly wait to get back to that life. I’ll see you after the ceremony,” Donna droned gruffly before stomping away from her mother.
Carolyn
