Patricia Cheeks Novels & Stories

“That’s good to know. But really, I don’t care if I don’t have kids. Chris and I are happy as we are.” Patricia gave me a knowing look through the steam, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. “If you say so,” she said, standing and letting rivulets of water run down her bare skin. “But the way your cheeks turn pink when you talk about it tells me differently…” I felt a lump form in my throat as I watched Patricia step out of the bath. Was I that transparent? I mean, I had obviously considered it before, but I didn’t think it was that obvious how much I secretly craved a little family…

“In any case, this was completely unexpected. I didn’t think you’d remember me. You’d only seen my face once and that was long ago.” Patricia’s eyes lit up in wonder. She was genuinely curious. Just as Patricia said, Alicia had only seen her face once. However, she did not know that Alicia knew every single, every detail about her. On the surface, Patricia wore the appearance of an angel-like goddess, but the truth was that a devil awaiting to break free laid dormant inside her. “Have you been well, sister?” Patricia asked once more. Alicia showed signs of fluster, but her turbulent aura immediately calmed and she returned to her normal state of mind, her senses coming back.

*Gasp* She stared for a long second, then her facial expression change. “That cheating son of a bitch!” she exploded. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is who he’s been sneaking around with? While he’s been treating you like shit?” Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. Patricia dropped to her knees and pulled me into a tight hug. I broke down completely, sobbing into her shoulder while she rubbed my back.

Mom came out of the bathroom, asking me where I had been. Me: "Mom, meet Patricia. Come in here, Patricia. [She wiggled in on her flip-flops.] She is the low class tramp, the trailer trash that you noticed in the lobby. Patricia, sweetheart, close the door to our suite. [She does.] Patricia, take off those ragged clothes. [She does.] Sweetheart, bring that wood chair with the rounded hoop seatback, yes, that one, bring it here in front of my mom."

Patricia’s voice was a glass of chardonnay: sweet at first, but you knew it would give you a headache in the morning. She took my hand in both of hers, squeezing just enough to remind me she did yoga five times a week. “What a beautiful party. But I have to ask—your friend, the one who fainted? Is she all right?” Her nails were French-tipped and immaculate. I fixated on them for a moment before letting the mask do its work.

"Patricia, look! Do I look pretty? I'm wearing mommy's lipstick! Am I pretty?" Patricia laughed so hard that she could not stand upright. Hedwig looked like a kitten with lipstick all over her face. She was so lovely.

My heart clenches. Patricia is sitting in a rocking chair by the fire. She is thinner than I remember, her hair grey, her face gaunt, her hands folded in her lap. She is wearing a simple dress, no jewelry, no makeup. She looks like a woman who has given up on appearances, on pretense, on the world. She smiles. It is not a cold smile. It is tired. She says she knew you would come. I ask where the couple is. The ones who took care of the baby.

It was a breeding ground for chaos. Patricia was not hard to spot. She sat at the bar, leaning casually against the counter, her drink nearly drained. It seems like she had just finished her fight.Her leather jacket clung to her frame, the tough exterior matching her ‘I do not give a shit’ attitude. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked like a person who screams like if you fuck with me I will fuck you up.

"Dr. Patricia, Mr. Hale is here." "Thank you, Susan." Dr. Patricia's voice came from inside, slightly strained. Benjamin walked in and the door closed behind him. Dr. Patricia stood behind her desk, her hands braced on the surface like she needed the support. She was a woman in her late fifties, gray streaking through her dark hair, lines of stress etched around her eyes and mouth. "Mr. Hale," she said, attempting a professional smile that did not reach her eyes. "What a surprise. Please, sit down."

“Uhm, no, you cannot come in, Patricia. I don’t even know you.” Patricia's smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly composed herself, that infuriating cheerfulness resurfacing. She tilted her head, her brown curls bouncing, and let out a light laugh. "Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude," she said, her voice still far too bright. "I just got so excited when I saw the baby. She's adorable. I’m sorry that I spooked you.”