She let go of my wrists, and I let go of her face. She closed her eyes, head tilted back as if she was in argument with a hundred warring thoughts, thoughts that probably told her I was crazy; to run. Then she opened her eyes, determined clarity written clear across them.
“I promise,” she whispered.
“What? What do you promise, Violet?”
“I promise that I’ll stay.”
17
Radley
It was the morning after I promised Meekai I’d stay; that I’d fight for whatever this was, growing at a rate I was convinced wasn’t normal. He’d called off vocal isolation and said we could resume talking as normal, but his ass was still off limits.
I smiled to myself as I sat on the front porch with Becca, sipping iced tea, she seemed to be battling something of her own, and I didn’t know what.
What I did know was that my blonde pocket rocket looked like a wilting flower as she spoke with conviction on one thing. “There’s no limit or time period when it comes to love. I swear, you believe love’s a choice. There’s no choice, and that’s where the cruelty lies, Radley.”
“I get that it’s not a choice, but cruelty? How could there be cruelty in love, Bec?”
Her emerald eyes flickered between me and the driveway, and I felt a little unnerved. Something wasn’t right.
“Are you even listening?” she questioned as she placed her iced tea on the outdoor table, moving to curl her legs underneath her, eyes still focused on the driveway. “The cruelty is that there’s no choice. You can love someone, and they might never love you back. The heart is a traitor. When it decides on where to place its attention, its loyalties, it doesn’t necessarily mean your love will be returned. Therein lies the cruelty. Unreciprocated love.” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, agitated and stirred up. “Amongst other things. There’s a whole laundry list of cruelties, Radley. Culture, age, whatever. Love can see past the limitations humanity puts on it. We’re the ones who make rules to adhere to. Love refuses rules. Love was never meant to listen to the limitations of limited minds. It has a habit of choosing to give itself to things that aren’t an option.”
I looked over to her, her demeanor was so lost. She looked like she was suffocating in all the things she wasn’t saying.
What she said made sense, was true even, but I felt like this was more than something she read in Oprah magazine. What I was listening to was actual pain, someone who was experiencing the cruelty firsthand. But as far as I knew, Becca never felt anything for Linc and she wasn’t in a relationship. Sadness was swallowing up my best friend, and I had no idea why. She was hurt, and I had no idea by who.
“What’s happened, Bec? Why do you look like someone just shot Clarence in the hoof?” I tried to make her laugh, but it fell flat as I watched her immovable profile barely react.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, still not looking at me. “Just feeling a little off. Ignore me.” She tried to smile, tried to look at me, make it convincing, but just as quickly as she’d looked at
me, her eyes were focused back on the driveway. I barely caught it as she moved to discretely wipe a tear away. What the hell was going on?
Just as I’d planned to demand an answer, the farmhouse door flew open and Gamma leaned out with an excited smile. “Sugarnuts, good news!” she all but yelled. “Wyatt just called and said he’s about thirty minutes away.”
“What!” I squealed. “He’s coming here today? Why?”
“Sure is, baby girl. I’m about to pull a batch of sugar cookies out of the oven and cover them in the bumpy things.” She laughed. “I swear that boy has an eversion to the word sprinkles. As to why he’s comin,’ I have a few ideas, but we’ll talk about that later.” A knowing glare skated between us.
Fuck. She must have told him about my little breakdown, the breakdown we still have to talk about.
“Ok, well I’ll be in to help you soon,” I promised, but I had to get to the bottom of what had Becca in such a miserable and cynical state. I’d never seen anything but a smile on her face. She was like bottled sunshine.
“Ok, butterbean, I’m gonna go make up the bed for him. Woohoo, my boy’s coming,” Gamma sing-songed as she made her way back inside. I couldn’t help but giggle as I watched her shimmy her way through the doorway. I turned, shaking my head at Becca, just to find her halfway down the front steps.
“Hey, Bec, where you going? I wasn’t finished. You don’t have to leave yet.”
I heard a sniffle as she power-walked away, wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself, not even turning around to answer me. “I gotta go,” she yelled. “I jus . . . I can’t . . . I’ll talk to you tomorrow at school, ‘kay?”
“Becca!” I called behind her. “What’s going on? Please, Bec!”
Whatever was happening, it had her torn to bits, and if she was torn, I was torn. But she turned her power-walk into a slow jog, ignoring my plea for her to come back and tell me what had her running away.
I’d taken over changing the sheets in Wyatt’s room for Gamma, and opened the windows, letting the late afternoon breeze roll through the room. Both Wyatt and I had our own rooms. We all did. The farmhouse had eight bedrooms and was plenty big to house a small army. Gamma always wanted us to have a place to come to when we needed time away.
As I finished dusting off the bedside tables, I heard a familiar rumble. My heart jumped with excitement as I yelled out to Gamma that Wyatt had arrived. I heard what sounded like the clang of a pot hitting the floor, met with a “Yahoo!” as I ran for the front door.
“He came on the bike,” I huffed out, yanking the door open as I watched him roar up the drive, dark helmet covering his face, leather jacket and denim covering his body of tattoos. I swear I could see his grin through the visor as I yelled out his name, clearing the steps in one leap as Gamma scolded me to slow down before I fell and damaged my money-maker.
“Yeti!” I squealed as he slowed to a thundering holt. Both his legs came to rest on the paved driveway, taking the weight as he turned the engine off, pushing down the kickstand and lifting his visor to reveal a huge megawatt grin that mirrored my own, relief written all over his face.
“Boo Bear,” he chuckled. “Get over here, brat.”
I threw myself at him, his huge paws wrapped around me tight. “’Roid-rager, I can’t breathe,” I strangled out. “You gotta lower the dosage, Wye.”
His whole body shook as he laughed. “I missed you, too.” He squeezed a little tighter before letting go, holding onto my shoulders and pushing me back at arm’s length to survey me. “We need to talk,” he said, screwing up one side of his mouth and arching a no-nonsense brow.”
I raised one of my own. “You’ve been here for two minutes. Two freaking minutes Wye. Pull back. The ‘roids have left you with terrible manners,” I joked as I watched him remove his gloves and helmet.
I felt an arm circle around my shoulders, the familiar scent of fresh linen tickling my nose. “Hi, baby boy,” Gamma greeted. “You’re right. Yes, we do need to talk.” Gamma let me go and came to stand next to Wyatt as he dismounted, grabbing Gamma in a huge bear hug and swinging her round. “Wyatt, what have I told you? This is a sure-fire way to put me in a wheel chair. Thank the Lord I’m wearing my best adult diapers. Gamma has bladder control issues!”
At that, he gently put her down, a boom of laughter erupting from his mouth, thick like honey and dusted with love; a sound that, next to Becca’s, was one of my favorite laughs in the whole world.
“You’re so graphic, Gams. You just lay it out there, don’t ya?”
“You bet your ass, baby boy. I have to offer it as a disclaimer these days. Body fluids are the leading cause in the spread of . . .”
Wyatt shut her down while I covered my ears and begged her to stop. “Gams, too much. Pull back, soldier.” He chuckled as he grabbed hold of Gamma’s hand and mine, dragging us both toward the farmhouse with a long moan. “I smell sugar cookies. Tell me you made
enough to put me in a sugar coma.” He took in a deep, satisfied breath, dropped our hands and ran at
the front door. The sound of his boots hit the entrance hallway, his heavy strides carrying over the floorboards like a herd of buffalo as he targeted his main objective.
“You’re such a pig,” I called out.
“It’s ok, baby girl. I hid a container just for us. Planning for his visit is like planning for the apocalypse.” She chuckled with a shake of her head. “There’s never enough food. Now, come on, let’s get this discussion over with. Better now than later.”
“Gamma, Wye just got here. There’s nothing to discuss that you don’t already know,” I argued, pulling away.
“Well, we both know that’s a lie, otherwise I wouldn’t have had Becca calling me confused and crying after she hung up with Meekai. From what I hear, he was no better than Becca, and I need to know why you scared them so bad. Why you got so distraught it scared the hell outta two people who care for you very much.”
“Fine,” I conceded, my heart heavy, stomach churning with a healthy dose of fear. “We’ll talk.”
A couple hours later, I was in a pool of tears with Gamma rocking me back and forth while Wyatt sat with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
I couldn’t tell them about him, but I could tell them that the guilt from the decision I’d made to terminate the pregnancy killed me, and it did. I couldn’t go through with the pregnancy, but the fact that I was put in the position to have to make that choice tore an immeasurable piece of me apart, a piece that could never be returned to me.
I told half-truths hoping it would satiate them. I told them that Meekai must’ve said something random and subconsciously triggered me. I told them that I struggled with the fact that I didn’t feel like I deserved to live; I didn’t deserve the days I was given, because I took my baby’s days away. I told them how weak I was through gut wrenching sobs, and then I begged Wyatt to forgive me for putting him in the position I had.
He got up from the armchair he was sitting on and came to kneel before me, his eyes showed evidence of the weight of the discussion, the weight of his own guilt. “I’m not sorry I helped you.” He promised, voice thick and heavy. “I’m sorry that I had to. The little prick walked away from his responsibilities and left you to handle it on your own, that’s what killed me, Boo.”
He rubbed my back as Gamma unwrapped her arms from around my shoulders, edging back and taking my face in her hands. Her eyes were soft, full of a love so unconditional that I felt calm take hold of me. It felt like Mama was there. I swore I could smell her perfume as Gamma gently brushed my tears away with her thumbs.
“Radley, when God gives you another day, it’s your job to show up. You’re breathing, baby girl, you just need to believe you have the strength to show up. And you do show up, every time. You have every right to keep breathing, whether you believe it or not. What happened is gonna leave scars, there’s no escaping that, but let me tell you this and remember it good.” Her hands dropped away from my face and took hold of my hands, drawing them into her chest. Her hazel eyes were one blink away from dropping her heartbreak down her weathered cheeks, a deep breath drawn in as she squeezed me, willing me to hear her.
“The days are long, but the years are short, Sugarnuts. Make the most of every second, because there are no second chances. Live scared, live wild, make mistakes, and fall over and over again, but never, ever, not once do I want to see you give up. That’s not who you are. You never have been. You know what your mama used to say to me?”
I shook my head, mama’s perfume still lingering in the air as Gamma spoke, “She told me that she was devastated that you suffered, but more so that you did it alone, hid it so well. One day we were talking over the phone, your mama in tears.” She squeezed my hands, signaling for me to listen, to wait until she finished. “She was sad that she missed the signs, sure, but more than anything, her tears held pride. She told me that the most admirable part of you was your strength. That she and your daddy must have done something right, to raise someone as fearless as you and realizing that . . . it was the most defining moment of her life.”
She stopped, taking a minute to let what she said sink in, for it to hold the gravity it deserved. “She told me that the week before she died.” The loose tear finally let go and fell freely down her pink cheeks. She didn’t move to wipe it away. She let me witness it.
“You were the best thing your mama ever did, and even though I miss her, the pain never fading, time brings the strength to cope. I know that she was put here just to deliver you into the world. I believe that some of those out there, those angels on earth that save our lives, don’t make it themselves, their lives but a whisper. We all have our purpose, and I know you were hers, baby girl. You were her reason to breathe. You were the reason that she came to breathe at all. Live your life by honoring her. Take her with you because, I can tell you this, she’s never left you. Not even in death.”
I dropped my head into my hands and broke apart. I closed my eyes and let Gamma’s words sink in. She’d never told me this, no doubt saving it for when she knew I’d need it, and I so needed it. Even though my heart ached, even though a part of that hurt, I made a decision right then and there.
“It’s time that I lived the life she gave me. It’s time,” I whispered.
Later that evening, I’d decided to call Meekai. It was time to show him that it wasn’t just him who was working for this, for us. I’d let him carry the load, and I was over not letting him see the girly parts of me. The stupid giggles, the recognition of the way he made me feel.
Before, I’d felt showing him that side of me was showing weakness, and I was exhausted from pretending he didn’t have an effect on me. I thought it gave him the upper hand, but in all honesty, Meekai wasn’t looking for any upper hand. He wanted us to fall into this equally.
“I swear, Meekai, you can’t even be trusted to run with crayons.” I laughed so hard, I couldn’t hear everything he was saying.
“If you’d let me finish,” he snorted, his own laughter making it just as hard to hear.
“Okay,” I said, trying to calm down. “Just tell me one more time, I swear I won’t laugh.”
I laughed.
“Okay, now for reals, I won’t.”
I snorted.
He snorted.
I took a deep breath, determined to get him to finish. About thirty seconds later we’d finally calmed down enough for him to get through his story.
“Linc came around to my place, flustered as fuck about twenty minutes after I got home from your place last night. I thought he was gonna knock a hole through the front door. I opened it to find him with his hands cupped over his balls. I had no idea our relationship was about to turn fifty shades of awkward. Long story short, his pubes were caught in the zipper of his jeans, Violet. He refused to tell me how it came about, but I noticed something.”
“What. Did. You. Notice?” I yelled at him, enunciating each word. I knew this part of the story, and I didn’t want to start laughing again.
“He had paint on his hands.”
“So,” I said, shrugging my shoulders like he could see.
“So, I know he and Brooks had to put time into their painting project today, but he wasn’t supposed to finish until seven . . . and . . . Violet, I shit you not, he had a red cross painted on the crotch of his jeans. I think something happened with him and Brooks. He had a hickey on his neck, all signs point to Brooks and him doing . . . something. I think they got into it. Like, into it, into it.”
“Sex?” I gasped.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. I hadn’t heard from him since after football practice on Friday. He usually comes to mine, but he went M.I.A. I had no idea what had happened until he was standing in a world of pain on my doorstep, his pubes ten feet deep in his zipper. I told him it wouldn’t have happened if he’d maintain that shit.” We both cracked up laughing again.
Last Monday during lunch,
when Linc had barely survived from choking on a fry, and Brooks happily tried to beat it out of him, the hate between them seemed real. But thinking back, things looked a little different now that I had some perspective. They were covering something up. But they’d only known each other for a few hours. How the hell did two people get into it that quickly, if what Meekai had suggested was true?
“What was the red cross about then?”
“I think it was her telling him to keep it in his pants. He had no boxers on, a big red cross that read like a fuck you. I asked him when I was on my knees, trying to freaking detach his pubes from his zipper.” He let out a cringy shudder. “My hand got covered in red paint that wasn’t completely dry. He didn’t tell me much, just said it wasn’t over, whatever that means. Anyway, wanna know what happens when you pry pubes from a zipper with a hand covered in wet paint?”
“Nooo! Ugh, I can’t. Don’t tell me the rest, please!”
“Nope, you asked for it, and it’s about time you suffered some second-hand embarrassment, Cooper.”
“You’re so mean,” I whined, but I couldn’t help the smile that turned up the corner of my lips as he delivered the kill shot.
“Uprooted pubes have a habit of sticking to wet paint, my wet hands looked like a fucking Chia Pet, Violet!”
We both barreled out laughing, completely out of breath when I heard the front door to the farmhouse slam shut.
“What the hell? Hey Meekai, can I text you later?”
“Is everything ok?” The worry in his voice did something to me, I felt it everywhere. My chest filled with a wave of heat that rolled over my body out of nowhere. All I wanted was to feel his hands on me. I wanted to feel what he promised he could do to me.
Thirteen Hours To You Page 20