"Where to even begin," Natasha said, pacing back and forth, chewing on her lip, "I guess...I guess the beginning, right? All stories start with a beginning, and life is no different. I don't mean my beginning, either, I mean the beginning of this show. Back when I was originally on public access, I had no idea what it was I was doing. I just knew I wanted to help people have the confidence to make decisions themselves without second guessing, doubting or questioning it. Unfortunately, far too many people listened to me, instead of listening to themselves, and unfortunately the person I should've been paying attention to most, my daughter, was the person who got pushed to the sidelines."
She sighed and leaned against the wall, running a hand through her hair. "I guess I just thought she was strong enough to be okay without me all the time," Nat continued, "I guess I just sort of thought that, yeah, she's got developmental delays, but she's better than me in every way so if I can make it, why can't she? It never once occurred to me that she might've needed me in a bigger capacity than I expected, and I was so caught up in my career - especially post marriage - to even think to ask her. But I also never ask myself what it was I really wanted out of all this." She pulled the magazine from the table and looked at it before holding it up in front of her phones camera. "They called me role model of the year," Nat said, tapping the front cover which bore her picture, "...me, a role model, someone who can't even keep her own family, much less herself, together. Doesn't exactly sound like a person one should be emulating or admiring. And role model to who, exactly? The public? Okay. But not to the person who needed me to be a role model. My daughter. I don't think I deserve this. I mean, awards are hacky as it is, but this one really irked me." Nat pulled a package of cigarettes from her coat pocket, lit one up and took a long drag before looking back at the camera and scoffing. "And don't act like you don't have a vice, it's hard to quit the one thing that gives you relief in times of duress," she said, "We all have it, whether we openly acknowledge it or not. I'm just saying, don't shame me for smoking...it's the least worst thing I've done this summer." *** "You're seeing this, right?" Jay asked, sitting at home on his laptop, his phone to his ear. "I am definitely seeing it," Corrine replied, sitting beside Ashley on the couch as they watched, dumbfounded. "Do you recognize where that is?" he asked, "Cause I can't for the life of me place it." "Dude, I know her even less than you do, so," Corrine said, "maybe we should just let her get it out of her system. Maybe once she's done she'll come back and everything will be okay. It hasn't exactly been the best summer for anyone." "And what if she doesn't come back," Jay asked, leaning back in his chair, "What if she specifically went somewhere no one could find her, so that we wouldn't be able to stop her if she wanted to do something to herself?" No answer. After a long moment, Jay sighed and shook his head. He knew Nat would probably never hurt herself, but he couldn't be sure. Still, all he could do right now was what they were doing. Watch the feed. The comments were beginning to pour into the livestream chat, and after all was said and done, damage control would be easier than trying to find her outright. *** "We never realize who the most important people to us are until it's too late," Natasha said, "Until, you know, they're either gone or about to be gone. In fact, shit, they don't even have to be the most important people to us. They can be ANY people to us. We always just assume we'll have just one more day, just one more chance to talk to them, just one more year to fix ourselves, but truth is we're not guaranteed anything. We weren't even guaranteed existence. Our births are outright accidents. I don't mean that in the sense that your parents didn't want you, I mean it in the sense that who you are could've been an entirely different person. You might not've been the sperm that made it, if you know what I mean. So the mere fact that we're even here is an act of rebellion in and of itself, because that wasn't even guaranteed." Natasha dragged over a small, old semi broken table and sat on it, crossing her legs as she did, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail. "...I wanted to have a kid. I really did. I wanted to have a child. I made that decision long before I was even an adult. I knew that I always wanted to have a kid. But when you're given a child like mine..." she took a long sigh and scratched her forehead, as if she was trying to find a way to say this nicely, "...you are given a whole other set of issues that come along with the standard set of child rearing. That isn't to say I'm unhappy. I cannot imagine my life without my daughter, and the fact that I fell apart once she moved out proves that I don't see a life without her. But it's easy to take someones presence for granted when they're always there. I'm not saying dealing with the school system has been great, because it hasn't, quite frankly, but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Hell, she's braver than I'll ever be, and no matter what a doctor might say about her, she's smarter than I'll ever be too." Nat wiped her eyes on her sleeve and shivered a little as she took another drag off her cigarette and tapped the ash onto the floor below on the side of the table. "...I'm what broke up my marriage." Natasha finally said after a pause, and to hear the words come out of her mouth, it made her sick; she went on, "for a long time I wanted to blame my husband, but it wasn't his fault. I mean, okay, it's partially his fault, but no failure is entirely on one person, especially when it comes to something like this. Some relationships do fail entirely because one person is putting in all the effort and the other isn't, sure, but not every relationship is like that. It's a very 50/5o situation. I focused on my career, on helping people who weren't the people in my family, in my life, that I should've been more dedicated towards, and as a result he felt ignored, and I was so involved with myself, my ego, that I couldn't even bother to ask if he was happy. I can't blame my sister, either, she thought she was going to die. She didn't know she'd survive and unwittingly helped along the further dissolvement an already dissolving family unit. It was me. It was mostly me, and I've been trying to ignore that fact for so long, and I did a pretty good job until this summer when my daughter left too, and suddenly I was facing down the stark realization that maybe I AM the problem." She took a long breath, then wiped her eyes again and took another long drag off her cigarette before putting it out entirely. "...and I'm so sorry, Violet. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I wasn't a role model. I'm sorry for everything. I get now how alone you felt, because I feel it myself. You had to leave to make me understand. For any parents watching this, hug your children, if they want it, and ask them how they're doing, don't just assume you know. Assumptions lead to broken bonds." Nat stood up and walked up to the phone, reaching out and biting her lip again, as if she was waiting to say one last thing. She had no way of knowing that everyone she knew - Jay, Corrine, Ashley, Noreen, Violet, Sharla - and of course the people on the site as well who were just her fans, were waiting with baited breath to hear how she finished. "...i'm a bad mother," she finally said softly, "but you're a great daughter. Ask your father where we lived. He'll know where to go." And the livestream died. *** Violet and her father sat in his car on the way out to Natasha, with no radio, no air conditioning, just total and complete silence. After a bit, Violet finally cleared her throat and glanced at her father, who carefully glanced back. "...i didn't mean to hurt her," she said. "Sometimes your mother has to be hurt to realize the damage she's done," Stephen replied, "what I mean by that, and please let me explain because it sounds bad on the surface, is that your mother is the kind of person who intends well, but doesn't recognize she's doing something wrong until it's too late. Sometimes she has to be put in her place for that perspective to shift. I didn't mean to hurt her either. These things just happen." "...i think i wanna go home," Violet whispered, and Stephen smiled as he reached over and touched his daughters hand gently. "You can go home, nobody's keeping you from being with her," he said softly, "believe me, I think you got your point across." Violet laughed a little. Surprise surprise, she thought, all these years her mother had tried to teach others something, and in the end it wound up being her own daughter who taught her the most important lesson of all. Natasha was seated on the porch outside when they pulled up and parked. Violet flung the door open and ran up to her mom, throwing her arms around her and squeezing tight. Natasha was full on crying, she couldn't help it. She squeezed Violet against her body and whispered in her ear. "I'm so sorry, it'll be different from now on," she said quietly. "I missed you, mom," Violet replied. "I missed you too, pumpkin," Nat said, kissing her on the forehead, "oh my god my life was not a life without you." Stephen approached the house, hands in his coat pockets as he looked up at the place and grimaced. "Boy, this place has seen better days," he said. "Where IS this?" Violet asked. "This was the very first place we lived before we got the place in town," Nat said, turning around and facing the building again, "it belonged to your fathers uncle. He left it to us when he died of cancer, and it was alright for a well but eventually we felt like you should be raised closed to the city and we didn't like all the upkeep that came along with it." "Tried to sell it, but never had any buyers," Stephen said, "a shame, could've been great property." "I like it," Violet said, "but I like it like it is now. Broken, but still here. Like us." Nat laughed and hugged her again, kissing the side of her head. "Let's go home, please, I'm starving," Nat said. "You guys wanna get pizza? I'm buying," Stephen said, and the girls took that offer. Each entered their respective vehicles, Stephen in his and Violet with her mother in hers, and pulled away from the house. As they headed back to the city, Natasha was so happy to have her daughter back she couldn't even begin to comprehend the messages the website was becoming inundated with. E-mails from mothers and daughters alike, from families broken apart or still together, from parents with dead children and children with dead parents, all commending Natasha for her bravery, and Violet for being just as brave if not braver than her mother for putting herself first for once and demanding change. She'd deal with it in a few days, when the dust had settled, and for the moment is was Jay's problem. She didn't know this livestream would change her career, she just knew that she had Violet back in her arms, and that was all that really mattered. Her family was broken. But it was her family. And she loved it just as much. *** 14 YEARS EARLIER "I wanna be on TV," Nat said, sitting outside with Stephen, smoking a joint between them; "Something where I can help people, like a sexier Mr. Rogers," she added. "Please, there's no one sexier than Mr. Rogers," Stephen remarked, making her snort. "You're right, it's true! That modesty, such a turn on," she said, making him laugh as well. She took another hit than handed the joint back to him as she sipped her drink and looked up at the stars. They were sitting on a friends apartment roof during a party, escaping the noise and the crowd for a moment. "Besides, Mr. Rogers wasn't on cable, and that's where the big bucks are," Stephen said, taking a long drag. "It's not about money, man, it's about, like, making sure others are okay too, you know?" Nat asked, "that's why you go to public access, because that's where the people who are most vulnerable can find you. The ones who need the most help." "You sure you want people to have access to you, publicly?" Stephen asked, and Nat thought for a moment. "...yeah," she said, nodding, "Yeah I do. At least for a while. We'll see how I feel in twenty years." "Remind me to ask you how you feel in twenty years then, Stephen asked, leaning in and kissing her, as she kissed him back, the fireworks exploding overhead, celebrating the new year that'd just arrived. She'd tell him she was pregnant tomorrow. Start the new year out right. Til then, the cells in her stomach would be her little secret. She knew he'd be delighted. She just figured tonight should be memorable as their last night as young, hip people instead of upcoming parents and all that that responsibility brings with it. "For what it's worth," Stephen said, "I'd sleep with Mr. Rogers." "Well I can't blame you, so would I," Nat replied, the both of them chuckling, "that'd be a very fine day in the neighborhood indeed."
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Nat's bed hadn't been slept in. Her car wasn't at her house. She wasn't answering her phone. All of these things were compounding to make Jay begin to worry, and worst of all, he didn't know who to turn to for help. When he tried to talk to Sharla about it, Sharla told him she was likely taking some time to herself and to just let her cool off, and when he called Corrine, he couldn't even get her to stay on the phone for more than a minute because she was "busy" with a project, that project - unbeknownst to him - was Ashley. Sitting in Nat's house, on the couch, staring ahead at the blank television screen, all Jay could ask himself was...
...where the hell was Natasha Simple? *** "What else can I get you?" the waitress asked, as Natasha put her menu down. "I want some more coffee, and, uh, a piece of pie I guess," Nat replied, "Thanks." The waitress took the order, smiled, then turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen. Nat slumped in her booth seat and sighed. She pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket and looked at it. 28 new messages. She sighed again and rubbed her eyes, stuffing the phone back in her pocket. "Running away from something?" a voice asked, and she looked over the booth seat behind her to see a young woman sitting there, looking at her. "...kinda, yeah." "Well the pie and the coffee is a good start," the woman said, "but you know what would really piss whoever's trying to find you off? Throwing your phone into a body of water. They do it in all the movies, so it has to work." Nat smirked. She appreciated this strange girls candor. "What are you doing?" Nat asked as the waitress brought her coffee and she started to pour some sweetener in it and stir. "I'm on my way back to college, was only in town for a bit this summer to see my folks," the woman said, "and I like eating in diners. It's like, one of the last places around where you can feel like you're just like everyone else, no better, no worse. You're all here for the same thing, you know? To just...relax and have a meal. It's nice." Nat nodded. She understood exactly what this girl meant. The waitress returned a moment later with Nat's pie, setting it down before leaving once again. Nat picked up her fork and started cutting into the pie and scooping it in her mouth. "Do you have kids?" the woman asked, and Nat stopped cold in her tracks. "...yeah, I do," she replied quietly. *** "Well where the fuck is she then?" Jay asked, and Corrine shrugged as she sat on the couch with Ashley while Jay paced around Nat's living room, frustrated and flummoxed; he turned and looked at them, furrowed his brow and asked, "...and why did you come together?" "We're redecorating her office," Ashley said, nodding at Corrine, "so we were doing that when you called originally. We've been meeting for about a week now." "Oh, well, that's cool," Jay said, scratching the back of his head and adding, "jesus, this isn't like her. She isn't the type of person to just take off like this." "If you think that then you really don't know her," Ashley said, surprising Jay, who turned to face her, confused; she continued, "take it from someone who grew up with Natty, she's...flighty, I'll say it. She's not a bad person by any means, don't take me the wrong way, I'm just saying that she can be kinda tough to keep in one place. She likes to be alone. Much as she loves her daughter, and her friends, she also struggles with being with others." Jay finally plopped himself down in a recliner and folded his arms, exhaling slowly. "Alright, so...where do we start? What do we do? Do we just wait for her to come back? Do we report as missing? That usually takes 72 hours or some shit. What's our inroad here into how to handle this situation? Not only because we have a show to begin producing again soon, but also because I'm genuinely worried about her." "I get that, and that's sweet, but take it from me, you'll be better off in the end just letting Nat do whatever it is she needs to do," Ashley said. Jay nodded, taking that into consideration, even if he didn't fully believe it. *** Nat was sitting outside the diner now, sharing a joint with the college student. As they leaned on the planter boxes, passing the smoke back and forth, Nat couldn't really believe what she was doing and where she was. The college girl tossed her hair out of her face and pulled her beanie further down onto her head. "My mom died when I was really young, so it's my stepmom and my dad now," she said, "but things are weird. I don't really get along with her the way he'd like, and then there's tension cause of how my mom died so things are awkward between he and I, so. The whole situation's messed up. I only really come back during the holidays to see my friends, honestly, but I feel like I'd get bitched at if I didn't stop at home." "I get that," Nat said, taking the joint from her and taking a long puff before waiting then handing it back and exhaling into the sweet summer air, "my home life is fucked. My husband left me for my sister, my daughter left me because I didn't pay enough attention. Everything is just...a mess, and it's really kinda all my fault. I put my career before my family. I wanted to help others learn to help themselves. Learned helplessness is something nobody ever talks about, but it's so common, and I wanted to help people unlearn that." "That's a noble cause, I can get behind that," the college girl said, "...but are you sure your daughter is mad at you, specifically?" That got Nat's attention, and she looked at the girl. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean, like, maybe she's not mad at you specifically, as a person, but at the persona you have in the public," the girl said, "Like she knows you as a totally different, totally real person, and I'm not saying you're not actually that helpful kind person in reality, you certainly seem like one, but I'm just saying that maybe she's annoyed at how fake everything is. You were on TV, right? That's what you said? Television, even stuff on public broadcast, isn't as real as you'd like it to be. But now you're online, ya know? And that can also have a veil of unreality to it - more often than not it does I'd argue - but you can choose whether to be real or not because you're not hiding behind some corporate mandated policy. You work for yourself. You decide the reality. Maybe she wants to see you be you, and not the persona." Nat was shocked. Not only had she never considered this, but she was completely taken aback by the fact that this was being brought up to her by a goddamned college kid. The girl shrugged and pressed the joint end shut to save it for later before sticking it in her shirt pocket. "But I don't know, maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, I mean, after all I'm not famous, I'm not an influencer or whatever, so-" "...she wanted me to be me, not the person they thought I was," Nat said softly, "but I got so wrapped up in my business that the persona became who I am. She got sick of the facade. There was no telling the difference between me and 'me', right? The curtain never closed. I was always in performance mode. And you're saying she got, understandably, tired of it." "Yeah, basically." "That's...really insightful, actually," Nat said, "...but I know she's also annoyed that I helped others instead of focusing on her, and she has every right to be annoyed at that." "So help others together or something," the girl said, shrugging again, "there's plenty of online teams who do good work for others together. Just...get her involved." Nat leaned against the planter box and sighed, shaking her head. The college girl checked her watch and knew she had to get back on the road. She pulled the joint back out and handed it to Nat, smiling. "You can keep it, I got plenty more," she said, "I need to get back to driving if I'm gonna make it back on time." "I'm sorry your mother died," Nat said, "but I'm sure she'd be proud of how intelligent and kind you are." The girl was not expecting this level of bluntness, and she blushed. "Thanks," she said, "I hope things work out for you. You seem like a great mom, for the record." Nat watched the girl walk to her car and get in. She started it, waved through the windshield, then backed out of the parking lot and headed off down the road. As she watched the car disappear over the horizon, Nat thought about what the girl had said. About getting Violet involved. Violet was far more inspiring than Natasha could ever hope to be. She could be a true role model for people like her, people with mental disabilities, people who could see her and think, 'hey, I can be okay! society is wrong!'. She pushed the joint into her coat pocket and then headed to her own car. There was one last place she had to go. *** Corrine was sitting in Ashley's living room while Ashley put music on on her stereo. Once it was playing, she turned and looked at Corrine, smiling, but Corrine wasn't smiling. Ashley didn't want to waste this afternoon. Stephen was away on business, and she had the place to herself for a few days. She wanted to spend that time with Corrine, preferably in a good mood. "Worried about my sister?" Ashley asked. "Kinda, but I'm also worried about me," Corrine said. "And how's that?" Ashley asked. "Cause, like...if she can break, any of us can break," Corrine said, "She always seemed so sturdy, so unbending; she survived so much like her husband leaving and her show getting pulled and all these sorts of things, and the thing that actually manages to take her down is a magazine that calls her a role model? I know Violet leaving had a lot to do with it too, but still, the magazine's where she really seemed to crumble." Ashley pulled her hair back into a ponytail and sat on Corrine's lap, looking in her eyes. Corrine looked back, blushing hard, still not used to have a beautiful woman be interested in her again. "It's sweet that you worry about her," Ashley said, "it really is. You're a really good, true friend, and that's really attractive. But I'm telling you, as someone who grew up with her, she'll be okay. She's always okay. She'll take some time alone, take stock of some things in her life and come back with a better attitude. This is just what she does." Ashley leaned in and kissed Corrine's neck, making her blush even harder. "Now," Ashley whispered, "We can worry about my sister until the cows come home - and no I'm not calling my sister a cow - or, we can try and live in the moment and enjoy ourselves. Aren't you tired of focusing on everyone else for a change? What about what you want?" "...I know what I want," Corrine said, grinning and kissing Ashley, making Ashley laugh. She was right, Corrine knew. Worrying would do nothing. They couldn't find her. She had left no paper trail, and she clearly didn't want to be around anyone. All anybody could do was simply wait for her to come back. To come home. To their surprised, she was on her way home. Just not the home they knew. *** Natasha opened the car door and stepped out onto the dirt. She looked up at the small house, and she smiled. She started walking up the walkway and approached, noticing the lights inside were off, and it was still essentially abandoned. She fidgeted with the door and opened it, heading inside. The house was on a small piece of land, a bit aways from the nearest town, and there was nobody else around for miles. As she entered through the door and further into the domicile, all the memories came rushing back. The laughter, the smells, the music, the love. This was a place built on memories, a place she had tried so hard to forget because of how much the loss had hurt. Natasha walked into the kitchen and for a brief moment she swore she could still smell her grandmothers cooking. She walked further in and ran her hand across the countertops, dusty and dirty, but still beautiful, still worthwhile, just like her. She leaned against the counter and looked around the kitchen. All the great meals her grandmother had cooked in here, all the little parties they had thrown. Where did the time go? She sighed and pulled her phone from her coat pocket, and finally opened the screen to a flurry of messages, all of which she ignored. She found a live streaming app, headed into her account, then walked into the living room and set the phone on the fireplace mantel before hitting "stream" and walking back into the center of the room. "...hello, my name is Natasha Simple," she said, her voice shaky as she continued, "...you might know me from my public access show of many years, or my current endeavor, my website and webseries where I try and help others get their lives under control and back on track. I love helping people. But now I'm asking for help. I need someone, anyone, to listen to me, please. Because I'm about to tell you a story. It's about me, and how I failed everyone around me, and how I don't deserve their forgiveness." She hesitated, wiping her eyes on her coat sleeve before chuckling and looking back at the screen and exhaling. "Don't forget to subscribe while you're here," she said, "cause this may take a while." "She's still here," Sharla said, entering the editing bay with Jay as they looked at Natasha, lying facedown on the couch, clutching a magazine in one hand. Jay sighed and headed further into the room, kneeling beside the couch and touching her head.
"You okay?" he asked, before glancing back at Sharla, "is she okay?" "They called me a role model," Nat murmured, getting Jay to turn his attention back to her as she continued, now flapping the magazine in her hand at him, "they had the gall, the sheer audacity, the nerve even, to call me this years local role model. I'm not a role model. I can't even be a good mom. Where'd they come to this conclusion?" "These things usually mean nothing," Sharla said, "often what they do is put a poll online on a social media page and then ask users to vote for someone in said poll. Ordinary everyday people have no idea what's going on in your life, man. They can't...they can't know what you're going through. They aren't privy to your problems at home." "Listen to her, she's right," Jay said, making Nat finally look up at him, her eyes red like she'd been crying all morning; he felt bad, he thought this sort of thing would normally make her feel better, but not this summer. Not after what had happened. He sighed and added, "look, it's just some random poll, it doesn't mean anything." "Yes it is," Nat whispered, pushing her face back into the couch, refusing to elaborate on her reasoning. Jay sighed and stood up, looking around the room before looking back at Sharla. "Where's Corrine?" he asked. *** "You have fantastic hips," Corrine said, watching as Ashley sat upright on the bed and lit a cigarette; she continued, "I wish I had hips half as nice as yours." "Well, you're welcome to borrow mine anytime you'd like," Ashley said, leading to an awkward silence before she added, "...sorry, that...that was meant to be romantic, but instead it felt creepy. I haven't flirted in a long time, and definitely never with a woman, so." "Amazing how one can be so bad at flirting but so good in bed," Corrine said, making Ashley laugh loudly. "Do you wanna go get lunch somewhere?" Ashley asked, "It's almost 1pm. We could go get something to eat. Strenuous physical activity like this always makes me hungry afterwards." "I suppose. I don't have anything to be working on, so it should be okay," Corrine said. The two women got dressed, then headed to Ashley's car. They got in and she pulled out of the driveway, heading down the road somewhere. She'd figure it out along the way. That was kind of how she rolled these days, it seemed. As she drove, she reached over and held Corrine's hand, one hand still on the steering wheel. Corrine blushed at this show of genuine affection, and glanced out the window. The last thing she expected this summer was to meet someone else...especially the sister of the woman she worked for. They eventually settled on a little hole in the wall sushi place, and parked and headed inside. Sitting at the counter, taking small plates with sushi off the little boats that swam past them, Corrine couldn't help but feel paranoid that everyone here somehow not only knew who they were, but also what they were doing. She had been having regularly paranoid episodes ever since her breakup, and she hated it. "...how's Violet doing?" Corrine asked, unsure of what else to talk about. "She keeps to herself," Ashley said, "I try and be a good host, you know? I am her aunt after all. But...it's weird. She's very closed off. I think she doesn't really know how to feel about everything. I think she's, like, waiting for someone to tell her it's okay to be angry or something." "When I was a kid," Corrine said, popping another sushi roll in her mouth, "I didn't understand how to feel things, so my teacher made me go to a special class where a woman showed me a chart with various faces on it, and asked me what I thought 'sad' felt like depending on the face. It was...weird. I'm better with feelings now, but I imagine that must sort of be like what Violet deals with." "No, not really," Ashley said, wiping her mouth with her napkin and sipping her soda, "I mean, she knows how she feels. She's upset. She has every right to be upset. But she's mad that she's upset, and worse than that, she's mad that her mom isn't more upset than she is. She's all jumbled up and confused. Teenagers are like that." "...maybe I could talk to her?" Corrine asked. "Actually, she's seeing Noreen today," Ashley said, patting Corrine on the thigh, "besides, I wouldn't wanna lose any time with you." Corrine blushed and looked away. She may have used to have problems with feelings, but she sure knew how she felt right now. *** Noreen and Violet were sitting in Noreen's bedroom. Violet hadn't said a word in over an hour, instead just looking through a photo album while Noreen made a beaded necklace on the bed. Finally, Violet put the album down and looked across to Noreen, who smiled at her as she looked up, her hands still working on threading beads. "I feel like you're the only one who really understands me," Violet said, "and it isn't fair that you weren't in our lives until recently, because, ya know, I could've, uh, used you before." "Well I'm here now, that counts for something, right?" Noreen asked. "I just want my mom to, uh, to...to see me as, like, I don't know...worth her time? She says she does all this for me, she says I'm why she works so hard, but it always seems like everyone else comes before me and she doesn't really know how to be a mom proper. She has the idea of what a mom should be, but doesn't know how to do it?" Noreen sighed and set down her beads and looked at Violet seriously. "...I think it's because women of our generation didn't exactly know that we wanted to be moms, but it was still expected of us, socially, to do so. So a lot of us had children without the ability to know how to properly raise them. A lot of these moms see themselves as friends, not parents, and you can be a friend to your child, but you also need to be a parent," she said, "your mom is trying, sweetheart, she really is. She just...doesn't know how." Violet sighed and looked back down at the photo album, seeing an image of Noreen and her parents on a camping trip, and she smiled. Noreen had gotten the childhood Violet wanted for herself, and she was simultaneously jealous and grateful that at least one of them had had it. *** "I don't get what the big deal is, frankly," Sharla said, sitting on her workout ball and sipping from her stainless steel water bottle; "if someone called me a role model, I'd be flattered. It's what I try to be. A good example of how to live. I eat well, I exercise. I am trying to be a role model." "...yeah, well...that's the irony isn't it. I'm not," Nat said, sitting upright on the couch now, "you don't get it, you guys...any other year this would've made me happy, but this year..." She looked down at the magazine again and sighed, shaking her head as Jay and Sharla waited and listened. "...if Violet sees this, it'll simply reinforce her idea that I'm only here for others, and not for her. That her own mother is inaccessible to her. I wanna help people, sure, I wanna be a role model. But not right now. This is not the best time. I couldn't even be a mom, how the hell could I be a role model to strangers? Do you see my dilemma now?" Sharla nodded and continued sipping as Jay unwrapped a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth. "I do, but you're thinking about this all wrong," he said, "you need to look at it from a different point of view. Maybe she sees it and she sees all the good you really do, and it makes her reconsider how-" "No, see, that's the problem, Jay, right there, doing mental gymnastics to make sense of my daughters disappointment with me," Natasha said, "she shouldn't have to accept these things, how she feels is completely understandable and valid. She shouldn't have to go through hoops psychologically to like her mother." "She has a point," Sharla said, as Jay shot her a nasty glare and she shrugged, taking another sip, whispering, "what...she does." Nat looked back at the magazine and sighed again. She should just go talk to Violet, but she didn't want to intrude on her daughters personal space. After all, she'd moved out of the house for a reason, and the last thing Nat wanted to do was violate that decision in some way. She tossed the magazine on the couch and buried her face in her hands. "I'm just saying that she's not wrong. Violet should be able to feel and think the way she does without trying to be convinced otherwise that she's somehow the one misunderstanding the situation. She's already mentally challenged. To gaslight a mentally challenged person is a whole other level of abuse, quite frankly." "I'm not saying she needs to be gaslit, jesus, but just that maybe she's capable of seeing it from another way," Jay said, "there's no reason for..." They'd heard the door shut, but neither one had seen Nat get up and leave. Jay sighed and shook his head. He wanted to get up and follow her, but he was beginning to ask whether she was worth the effort. She clearly wanted to be alone. Violet clearly wanted to be alone. Like mother like daughter. *** "Don't you feel guilty, even just a little bit?" Corrine asked as she sat on Ashley's lap in the front seat of the car after lunch, making out. "No, do you?" Ashley asked, making Corrine shrug. "...not particularly, but I wanted to make sure we were on the same page," she replied, making them both chuckle; she leaned in and kissed Ashley again, then added, "I just meant to ask, you know, cause of Stephen and everything, like, maybe you-" "I mean, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something remorseful about it, but I learned a while ago life is too short to worry about that sort of thing. I'll end things with him, I will, I just feel awkward about it because he was there for me and stuff, you know? It's all super complicated." "...you're sure you want this, right?" Corrine asked, "I'm sorry, I just...I have trouble believing anyone could ever remotely like me. When Nat and Jay first approached me to work with them, I was like 'is this some sort of extreme practical joke?' and now you liking me just makes me wonder the same thing. I've never really been able to believe that I'm worth the time or effort people give me." Ashley smiled and ran her hand through Corrine's dark brown hair. "Your uncertainty about yourself is one of your most admirable traits, I like a girl with no self esteem," she said. "Hey!" "but yes, I'm sure. I thought I was gonna die, remember? I spent a good portion of a while thinking I was on my way out, and then evaluating all the things I'd never get to do as a result of that." "Things like that?" "Things like hot women with no self esteem," Ashley replied. "Okay, you need to stop saying I have no self esteem. It's ironically ruining my self esteem," Corrine said, making Ashley throw her head back and cackle, which made Corrine blush and go back to kissing her. Who was she to question what life choices Ashley was to make? It's not like she herself had made the right ones. Hell, even Natasha hadn't. Perhaps, she thought, that's what truly binded them all together, was not being good at making decisions, so perhaps if they made decisions with eachother, they'd at least get one right once in a while. *** Stacy Keach was sitting at her desk when her office door opened, and Natasha walked inside. Stacy looked up, genuinely surprised to see her. Natasha stopped in front of the desk and sighed, then put the magazine down on the desktop. Stacy looked at the magazine, then looked up at Natasha. "Can I help you?" she asked. "You wrote this, right?" Nat asked. "I did." "Was it a poll? Did you put a poll online and ask random people to decide?" Nat asked, "Why was I the role model you picked? Why would you choose me? Don't you have any idea how bad things have been for me lately? Now you're out here telling people that I'm someone they should look up to, to strive to be, when my entire career has been based around telling people to be themselves and not be me?" Stacy listened, then leaned back in her chair and nodded. "I went to your live show," she said, "the one you did last year? It took me by surprise just how adamant you were that people not listen to you, but instead listen to themselves. That's generally not something a self help person says to their followers. In fact, the entire concept of the modern day self help guru is to keep people invested in constantly thinking there's something about them that needs to be fixed so they keep giving you money to help them fix it." Nat exhaled, furrowing her brow, confused at where this was going. "but that's not what you did. Instead, you told people that they should be the best them they could be, no try and be the best imitation of you they could be. And you're right. You're a mess, it's clear to anyone that you're a mess and nobody should be trying to imitate you. That's just going to make them a mess too. Your entire business plan is built on the idea that you genuinely want people to better themselves, not stay just broken enough so they need you to get better." Stacy pulled the magazine towards her and tapped on it with her perfectly manicured nails, smiling warmly. "...that's why I picked you. And it was me, personally. Not a poll. Not an online question. Nothing from social media. Me, specifically. I picked you. Because I was so genuinely impressed not only by your absolute desire to not be famous but also your absolute desire to ensure others choose themselves over you. That's just not a level of honesty one often sees in the media, especially not from people in your line of work. I guess more than anything you're the local role model of the year because you helped inspire me to stop thinking I needed others to get better, when really I just needed to listen to myself." Nat slumped a bit, the anger now gone, replaced with cautious gratefulness. Her eyes were watery, and she wiped them on her arm. "...thank you," she whispered, without looking at Stacy, "thank you. I...I needed to hear that." "I do wanna ask you thought," Stacy said, "...why don't you ever listen to yourself? I mean, you make such a big deal about people knowing their own needs, but why don't you do that very thing too? Do you ever listen to your own needs? Or do you just...ignore how you feel and instead be what everyone thinks you are?" Nat felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. In 2 minutes flat she'd had herself explained to her by someone she'd never met, and it blew her away. Stacy had a point. She'd been ignoring how she felt. She'd spent this entire summer worrying about everyone else, specifically about her daughter, that she'd never once taken into consideration just how burnt out and worn down she felt herself. When Sharla tried to cheer her up, she took her up on the offer, because it's what she assumed she was supposed to do. When Ashley wanted to meet with her, she did it because she assumed it was her duty to repair their damaged sisterhood. She'd never once, not one single time, stopped and wondered... ...is this what I wanna do? What do I wanna do? Natasha stood back up straight and turned, heading towards the door. "Miss Simple?" Stacy asked, "Where are you going?" "...I don't know," she said, "anywhere else." And she exited. |
About
Public Access follows Natasha Simple, a self qualified "self help" instructor with her own show on local public access. But when she makes a sudden and surprising statement on air, her entire life changes, for the better...and the worse. Archives
December 2022
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