Extract: BECOMING ANNA by A. R. Goodrich

An extract from A. R. Goodrich’s contemporary fiction title, which tells the story of Gina DeGraw, a woman at the end of her ropes trying to pull herself up from rock bottom. A discovery sends Gina on a cross-country journey to uncover lies, discover truths and become who she is truly meant to be.

1.

The morning sun breeched the horizon, slowly brightening the room through the cracks in the ancient blinds. The rundown place was in shambles, a slight haze from cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Gina DeGraw sat at the side of the bed where she had slept the previous night, in her bra and lace panties, but seemed unable to finish finding her clothes. She had entered the room late in the night (or very early in the morning, whichever you wanted), rather intoxicated, her clothes getting strewn all over. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the booze-haze from them, and attempted to continue her bleary search, make-up smeared and tousled hair in a ratted mess.

A hung-over groan came from behind her. Gina sighed, and it turned into a silent grimace as the tobacco-stained fingers of her one-night stand came creeping around to her bare abdomen.

“Running off so soon?” he crooned, his voice annoyingly oily—not at all sexy like she had thought when three-sheets-to-the-wind. Gina rolled her eyes, angry at herself. The stench of stale whiskey leaked through the air, making her shudder and nearly gag.

Gina groaned. “I have to get to work,” she mumbled, pushing his hand away. Good lord, she didn’t even remember his name. Had she even asked? Gina couldn’t remember. That was a new low for her.

Getting to her feet, Gina fought back the wave of nausea, coupled with the burn of her hang-over reflux, and proceeded to find the rest of her clothes. Her shirt was rescued from the bed post; her jeans had ended up in the trash can. She stumbled into them, pulling her sandy-beach-at-sunset colored hair into a knot on the back of her head; stray curls sprung out here and there, the thickness keeping it from being tidy. The guy she had been with propped up on his elbows.

“Wanna grab some food? They have great pancakes across the street. Saturday morning special.” He lit a cigarette.

“I said I have to get to work.”

The man snorted, a puff of second-hand smoke rolling from his nostrils. “Piss on work. Stay here. We can roll around some more.”

Gina shot him a look. Now that she was mostly sober, his long hair and gold tooth were anything but attractive. Gina sighed. This had to stop. She was going to end up in trouble, pregnant, or dead. She sighed, again, disgusted and exhausted—exhaustion that went way beyond her late night.

“I have to go,” she replied, grabbing her purse and shoes.

“Can I call you?”

“Do you even remember my name?” Gina snapped, her cat-green eyes flashing.

The guy was brought up short. The cigarette hung from his bottom lip as he stared blankly at her, obviously quite unclear of what her name was. Had she even told him? Oh, good lord.

“That’s what I thought,” Gina whispered, walking out of his bedroom. She barely paid the shabby, low-rent apartment any mind as she made her way to the front door. Barreling out, she hurried down the three flights of stairs and out onto the street.

The sunlight streamed into her retinas, causing her eyes to water and the immediate rummaging for sunglasses to ensue. Cursing under her breath, Gina stuffed them onto her face and then made her way to the bus stop. And as her luck would have it, one of the buses was pulling away just as she was coming up to the stop.

“Fantastic,” Gina griped, plopping onto the bench. “Just effin’great.” Rifling through her bag, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes, knocking the last one into her palm and tossing the empty pack into a nearby trash can. Rolling her eyes (it was clearly one of those days), Gina lit it and took a long drag, sighing back outward as she exhaled. Leaning her head back, she groaned in hungover fatigue. But the sound of heavy brakes didn’t allow her to relax for long.

Stomach still churning, Gina trudged to her feet as another bus pulled up, a few patrons climbing off. Stomping out her cigarette, she waited for the path to clear and climbed on. After scanning her pass, she moved through the aisle and flopped into a seat. Sighing heavily, Gina pulled her headphones from her bag, popped them on, and sat back, closing her eyes against the invasive, heinous sunlight.

Gina gasped, sitting straight up as she startled awake from her hunched-over-passed-out position in the bus seat. She glanced around, bewildered and bemused for a few moments, the scarce other patrons present not paying her any mind. Homeless-appearing persons sleeping on the bus was not that uncommon of a sight. It took a couple seconds for Gina to remember where she was and what was going on. When she did, she immediately glanced out the window, the sun beginning to disappear below the horizon.

“Oh, crap,” Gina moaned. She had slept the entire day. Her gaze snapped to her watch.

“The dress fitting!” She gasped. Grabbing her things, Gina got off at the next stop and hurried to make her way to another bus that would take her across the city in the opposite direction to the bridal boutique. Better late than never, but she wasn’t even half-way to the other bus stop when her phone started to ring. And sure enough, the screen showed that it was Phoebe.

“Hey, I’m runnin’ late, but I’m on my way,” Gina said in a way of greeting.

“Where are you?” Phoebe demanded, her angry voice snapping and blending with her Boston twang.

“I got tied up on the bus, but I am coming your way right now.” Gina gasped.

“Tied up on the bus, huh? What was his name?” Phoebe was pretty pissed by the sound of her voice.

“It isn’t like that. I’ll be there in a bit. Gettin’ on the next bus right now.” And Gina hung up. “Some maid-of-honor I am,” she snarled to herself.

“So, what’s up with you lately?” Phoebe asked. She was currently up on a small platform, her giant train spread out around her. Her chocolate skin shone brilliantly against the ivory of her wedding dress, her dark hair twisted up out of the way, stray ringlets springing loose from their holds. Her black eyes flashed at Gina from the mirrors she stood in front of.

Gina glanced up at her, her hands falling from where they had been rubbing her temples; her brain continued to cha-cha inside her skull. It took a few moments for her to focus. Damn. She was never drinking tequila again.

“What’s up with what?” Gina asked innocently. She wouldn’t quite meet Phoebe’s eye. She dug for a smoke, glancing longingly outside, and then remembered that she had smoked her last one while waiting for the bus.

“You know what?” Phoebe snapped, glaring over her shoulder. She teetered in a circle, carefully spinning to face Gina. “You have been going downhill. I know you’ve always been wilder than me, but this is crossing the line. You’ve been missing work and sleeping around more than usual, and I know you haven’t paid your bills. You’re more drunk than sober half the time, and I don’t even want to know what else has entered your system. What’s up?”

Gina sighed. “I don’t know, Pheebs. I just feel so… so out of it. I feel so numb. I don’t know what to do with my life.”

“It’s gotten worse and worse each year,” Phoebe scolded. “You’ve been through some crap, true, but it’s not going to get better if you don’t let it. You started by moving in with my family when you were sixteen, but then your parents died, you met a guy…”

 “I know. I guess I might have some unresolved issues.”

Phoebe snorted, a sound greatly clashing with the prestigious dress she currently had on. “Unresolved issues, my ass. You have an unresolved life, Gina. Look, girl, I know you haven’t had it easy. Your parents were the devil. They put you through things that no one should have to go through. That’s left its mark on you.”

Gina sighed. “I know. If it hadn’t been for you and your family, who knows what would have happened to me. I would have starved to death; I know that much. They spent all the money they did get on liquor.”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from that tree,” Phoebe sassed.

Gina glared at her. “Yeah, well, you’re leavin’ me now, too. So, what else should I do?”

Phoebe’s face fell. “I’m not leavin’ you. I’m getting married. We aren’t even leaving the city. His house is only three blocks from my place, for crying out loud.”

“I’ll just be a third wheel. And I don’t fit in with your God-crowd anyway.”

Phoebe snorted again. “Well, you could use a little of my God-crowd right now, if you ask me.”

Gina sighed but didn’t say anything.

“Look, Gina,” Phoebe started, “you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I want you to be happy. And safe. I don’t know what I would do without you. You need to get your act together. At this rate, you’re not going to last very long. I know your life has sucked thus far. I know your parents were anything but society’s finest. But you have to find a way to move passed all of that. That lawyer gave you the key to your parents’ house, right?”

“Yeah,” Gina grunted, rubbing her eyes. “I haven’t touched it since he gave it to me. It’s still in the envelope in my underwear drawer. I can’t stomach the thought of going back there.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

Gina glared up at her friend. She wanted her to go back to hell on purpose? “Why would I do that? I left there when I was sixteen and haven’t looked back.”

“I know,” Phoebe consoled. “But maybe you should go and see if there is anything that you want from there. And then burn it down.”

Gina laughed. “The burning down part sounds very inviting. Although, I can’t imagine there would be anything I wanted or needed from that wasteland.”

“You never know,” Phoebe replied. She didn’t say anything else, however. The seamstress was coming back . In her arms was a load of lace and other delicate accessories to be added to the bridal ensemble.

Gina leaned back into the small couch, watching her friend go over the details of her wedding dress. Lace, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Beadwork sewn into the corset-style top; silk and rhinestones woven into the skirt and train. Gina smiled softly, amused at her friend taking full advantage of her only-child-rich-daddy budget. Her face fell again as she contemplated what her friend had been saying. Gina wished she could deny it all, but she couldn’t.

The rest of the afternoon passed with Gina shadowing Phoebe as she finished the details on her dress, the bride’s maids’ dresses, her shoes, her hair piece, and everything else. She was even forced into a final fitting of her dress as the maid-of-honor. Way out of the comfort zone for Gina. Strictly a jeans and t-shirt person, she was very out of sorts in the strapless, ruffled chiffon dress, with its high-low skirt and rhinestone belted waistline. She stared at herself in the mirror, slightly appalled.

“You don’t like it?” Phoebe asked.

“It’s not that,” Gina stuttered. “I love the color. You know red is my color. I just feel, um, exposed.”

Phoebe laughed. “I know you hate dressing up and pretty much avoid anything outside of jeans, t-shirts, and boots, but it’s only for one night.”

Gina wrinkled her nose, causing Phoebe to laugh harder, and then waddled back into the changing room. When she came out, she was alone. Phoebe’s voice coming from another changing area. A few minutes later, out she walked in full wedding attire. Gina gasped a little.

 “Does it look okay?” Phoebe asked. Her eyes were shining happily, her smile wide and contagious. Gina moved across the mirrored room to take her friend’s hands in hers.

“You look like an angel,” Gina whispered.

“Thanks, girl,” Phoebe replied, her eyes moist. “Do you think Paul will like it?”

“Of course. He loves you. He’s not gonna care what you’re wearing. As long as you’re marrying him.”

Phoebe grinned. “I hope so. I’m sure glad it’s me that gets to marry him.”

“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care,” Gina told her.

“And that is exactly what I want for you,” Phoebe said.

“It’s gonna take more than a man to fix my issues. Trust me. I’ve already tried.”

Becoming Anna is available now in paperback.