by Hazel Kelly
“Like I said.” I shut the door gently. “It’s temporary.”
“What does that mean?”
I slumped back on the couch. “It means that until I can convince my mom to leave my dad, I’m keeping him here with me.”
Her face paled. “Has your mom talked to a professional yet?”
“It would be a waste of money,” I said. “No one can get through to her.”
“I might know someone who could help.”
“Who?”
“My mom’s on the board of a—”
“No offense, Rosie, but your dad fired mine. I think it’s unlikely that our moms will hit it off.”
“Do you trust me?”
“You, yes. Everybody else, not even a little bit.”
“Right,” she said. “I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m getting desperate here, but if I’m not careful, I could end up pushing her away and—”
“It’s okay,” she said, rubbing my back. “Tell me what happened with the scouts.”
“Who told you I was with—?”
“Anders,” she said. “But he couldn’t recall if it was Denver or Florida.”
“Denver,” he said. “But it doesn’t mean anything. I’m only a freshman.”
“Still, they don’t meet with everyone.”
“True. But I have a long road ahead of me if I’m going to earn anything other than their fleeting attention.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to, Luke.”
I wanted to believe that as much as I needed to hear it.
“Patrick thinks so anyway,” she said. “He told me so.”
My eyes smiled.
“He also informed me that it was possible to become your second-biggest fan, but not your first.”
“Is that so?”
“I jumped at the chance,” she said. “In case you were wondering.”
“You could do worse than second to Patrick.”
“I know,” she said, wrapping her arms around me.
I laid my head on hers, and as much as I’d never admit it out loud, it felt nice to let someone else prop me up for a change.
“Thanks for coming to your senses, Rosie. I know we’ve had a few bumps, but I really do think we’re better together.”
“Of course we are,” she said. “And we have so much lost time to make up for.”
T H I R T Y N I N E
- Rosie -
I was just beginning to worry when my mom walked in the restaurant and pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her head.
I waved in her direction, and by the time she reached the table, I’d risen to my feet to give her a hug. She squeezed me too tight, just like I was hoping she would, and I couldn’t help but think it was weird how much her perfume reminded me of being home, of being young.
I sat back down in my chair at the same table where I’d first interviewed Luke, hoping that it would bring me luck.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “Traffic was bad getting out of the city.”
“It’s fine. I’m just happy you could come down.”
“Any excuse would’ve gotten me here,” she said, closing her sunglasses in their case before setting her purse by her feet. “But your vague request certainly piqued my interest.”
My uneasy smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“A bit,” she said, tilting the menu up as she flicked her eyes down. “But I’m mostly hungry to hear how things are going with you.”
“Everything’s good. My grades are fine. I like my courses.”
“What about your roommate?” she asked.
“We’re not besties or anything, but she doesn’t cause me any stress.”
“That’s good,” she said. “It’s important to be able to count on a bit of privacy when you want it.”
“Especially for me,” I said. “Since I’ve always had that.”
“What do you recommend?”
“The pumpkin ravioli.”
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “Let’s split some calamari, too.”
“Twist my arm.” I raised a hand to get our waiter’s attention and put in our order when he was ready.
“And to drink?” he asked, looking back and forth between us.
“I’m fine with water,” I said, though I hoped he would accidentally bring me a vodka anything.
“Iced tea for me, please,” my mom said. “Extra lemon on the side.”
The server smiled and disappeared.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked.
“I suppose I’m going to have to spill it eventually.”
“You are,” she said. “And I fear every second you don’t spill it is going to send me further into panic.”
I took a deep breath.
“Are you pregnant?”
My cheeks burned. “What? No?”
She exhaled. “Does it have anything to do with a boy?”
I searched her eyes. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because your father told me he asked you to stop seeing Luke Hudson, and I was an eighteen-year-old girl once, so I know exactly how effective his speech likely was.”
“Dad’s wrong about him.”
She spread her napkin over her lap. “He just wants what’s best for you. He always has. You’re all we’ve got, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I said. “You never let me forget it.”
Her eyes wilted at the edges.
“And I think I handle the pressure pretty well.”
“You do, honey. You do.”
“I also think I’m old enough to see who I want and to act as my own judge of character.”
“Your father has his reasons for saying what he did.”
“That doesn’t make him right.”
Her mouth pursed in frustration, and her eyes gave away how carefully she intended to choose her next words.
“It is about a boy, though,” I said. “My asking you to come down.”
Her expression froze.
“But it’s not Luke.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“It’s his little brother, Patrick.”
She cocked her head.
“He’s in a wheelchair.”
The corners of her mouth drooped.
“But he’s smart and lively and doesn’t waste a minute sitting around feeling sorry for himself.”
Soft creases formed around her eyes.
“Unfortunately, his dad is a drunk.”
She took a deep breath like this wasn’t news to her.
“And he’s been abusing Patrick’s mom for so long that she’s the one that’s paralyzed now. With fear.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because she needs professional help, Mom, and I know you know people who are qualified to go in and talk to her.”
“Rosie, honey—”
“Aren’t you still on the board of that Women’s Aid Organization?” I asked. “Didn’t you take some sort of oath that obligates you to help if you find out a woman is being abused?”
She looked at me through sad eyes.
“It doesn’t even have to be you,” I said, my voice starting to shake. “Just send someone. Please.”
She swallowed.
“She won’t listen to Luke, and he’s desperate.”
“I understand that, but—”
“No. No buts. Mr. Hudson could kill her, Mom. And every day that Patrick has to stay in that environment is increasing his risk of having lifelong trauma.”
“Where’s Patrick now?”
I pushed my glasses up my nose.
“Rosie.”
“He’s living in Luke’s apartment.”
Her face dropped. “What?”
“He doesn’t know what else to do.”
“A college campus is no place for a young boy.”
“I know that,” I said, leaning forward. “That’s why I’m asking for your help.”
&n
bsp; “He should be in school.”
“Obviously. But it’s hard to argue that his education should come before his basic safety.”
She sighed.
“Mr. Hudson is a really bad guy. Dad’s right about that, but Luke isn’t. And Patrick. He’s—” I pressed my lips together and inhaled sharply to keep tears from forming in my eyes.
“Damn it, Rosie.” My mom leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, which I’d never seen her do in my life. “So let me get this straight, you want me to go over there—”
I held my breath.
“Or send someone else who’s in a position to help Mrs. Hudson.”
“She’s scared,” I said. “But she’s a good mom, and I don’t want her and Patrick to get split up or for them to endure any more abuse.”
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “And if I agree?”
“I’ll do anything,” I said. “Just help them, please.” I thought of the pain in Luke’s eyes when he talked about the situation, the desperation in his voice. From the moment I met Patrick and saw Luke’s black eye, their situation at home became real to me, and it was breaking my heart every day.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have the knowledge, the strength, or the resources to make a difference on my own. But there was one thing I could do that Luke couldn’t.
I could ask for help.
And to be honest, I was ready to do more than ask. I was ready to beg, ready to do whatever it took to help Luke go after his dream unburdened by nightmares over his little brother’s safety.
“Anything?” my mom asked.
I nodded.
“Would you stop seeing him?”
“What?”
“If I agree to do this for you,” she said, her firm gaze steady. “If I agree to do whatever it takes to get Mrs. Hudson to safety so Patrick can live with his mother without fear, will you stop seeing Luke?”
My nose burned as tears pooled in my eyes. “Please don’t ask me that.”
“I’m asking,” she said. “Will you stop seeing him if I can guarantee his family’s safety?”
I blinked, and several tears escaped down my cheeks.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I said, covering my face to muffle the sound of my crying.
“Shhhh.” My mom leaned across the table. “Stop crying.”
“I can’t!” I said, my voice cracking.
“You can keep seeing him, okay?” she said. “Calm down.”
I dropped my hands. “What?” I asked, my eyelashes sticking together with every blink.
“You don’t have to stop seeing him.”
“What?” I grabbed the edge of the table. “Why would you say that then?!”
“Because I had to be sure.”
I craned my neck forward. “Sure about what?!”
“Your feelings for him.”
I leaned back in my chair, sniffling as I dragged the cloth napkin under my eyes.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
I bit the inside of my lip.
“I’m sorry to push you like that,” she said. “But if I’m going to fight your father on this, I need all the information.”
“So you didn’t mean it?” I ask. “I don’t have to stop seeing him for you to help?”
She shook her head. “No, honey. As far as I’m concerned, any man who’s inspired such compassionate, selfless feelings in you is all right in my book.”
“What are you going to tell Dad?”
“That I finally found a project worthy of my excess empty nester energy,” she said. “And that he can look forward to meeting Luke over Thanksgiving break.”
A few more tears spilled from my eyes as I reached across the table. “Thanks, Mom.”
She took my hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to help you, Rosie, and the same goes for anyone you care about.”
“I love you.”
“Well, that makes me a very lucky woman,” she said. “Because I love you, too.”
I smiled.
“And don’t even get me started on how lucky this Luke boy is. I hope he knows—”
“Actually, I’m the lucky one,” I said, my heart swelling in my chest. “You’ll see.”
F O R T Y
- Luke -
I was lowering Patrick into the tub when I heard a knock at the door.
“Can you get that, Anders?” I called.
“He’s gone,” Patrick said. “He left for class when you were in the shower.”
“Okay, buddy. In that case, I’ll be right back. See if you can get some good bubbles going with my shower gel.”
“The Axe?” he asked, the hope in his voice obvious.
“Sure.” I stepped out and closed the bathroom door. After all, the last thing I needed was one more person knowing I had a kid living with me. Luckily, Anders had been pretty cool about it…on the condition that it was temporary and that I’d never give him shit about any guests he wanted to host.
When I opened the front door, my face fell. “Mom.”
She stood with her feet together and held her purse in front of her with both hands. “Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, noticing a brightness in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in years.
“I came to get Patrick,” she said. “Assuming you still have him.”
“Very funny,” I said, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”
Her nose twitched as she adjusted to the smell only three men living in a small space can create. “Where is he?”
“In the tub.” I knocked on the door. “You have a visitor, Patrick.”
“Is it Rosie?” he asked hopefully.
“No, it’s Mom.”
“Mom!”
I swung the door open, and she went inside, giving him a big hug that left orange-scented suds all over the back of her coat from Patrick’s bubble-coated hands.
“Look at you,” she said, dropping to one knee. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a real college student.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said. “But I’m not ready for college. Luke gets way too much homework.”
“In that case,” she said, “what do you say I take you home so you can get back to Mrs. Fischer’s class on Monday?”
His mouth twisted. “Do I have a choice?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, shaking her head and standing again. “Are you okay to finish your bath while I have a word with Luke?”
“Sure,” he said before we backed out of the humid room and shut the door.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“No, thanks. I’m fine. Took too many pee breaks on the drive down.” She walked over and sat on the couch. “But I do have some news I’d like to share with you.”
I sat down beside her. “I hope it’s good news.”
She held her own hands. “It is.”
I listened to Patrick humming to himself while I waited for her to continue.
“I’m leaving your father.”
I couldn’t believe I’d heard her right. “How—”
“Mrs. Bennet came to the house this week.”
“Mrs. Bennet?”
“Rosie’s mother.”
My eyes grew wide.
“She came with a counsellor and two women who’ve been in my situation before.”
I stopped breathing.
“And when I finally stopped being defensive, they explained my options and told me about the support they would be willing to provide if I agreed to let them help me.”
“Wow.”
“But I had to answer right then,” she said. “They told me statistics describing how many women needed their help and said they had to focus on the ones who wanted help and who were willing to cooperate.”
“Like an intervention?”
She scratched one side of her head. “I guess so.”
“And?”
“I c
ould tell Mrs. Bennet really wanted to help me, that they all did. And they were so patient with me. I really felt like they understood how overwhelmed I’ve been with everything.”
“Uh-huh.”
“One of the women who came is from our school district. Mrs. Juarez. Or Ms. now, I guess.”
“I remember her,” I said. Her hair was so black it almost looked blue. “She has a daughter who’s a year ahead of me.”
“And a son in Patrick’s class.”
I took a deep breath to keep my chest from constricting further.
“She’s been through the same thing I’m going through now,” she said. “And came out the other side.”
I couldn’t help but notice the renewed strength in her voice. Even her posture had improved.
“She didn’t sugar-coat anything when she told me about her experience, and she said that in order to be a better mom, I have to put myself first for a while.”
I swallowed.
“You probably don’t remember when her husband left,” she said. “But I do. Six months later she was like a different person, Luke, a happier person. I want that.”
I nodded. “So what now?”
“Well, I already filed for a restraining order against your dad.”
“How?”
“The organization has a lawyer they use and she advised me. And when I told her I had pictures—”
“What pictures?” I asked, a dark knot tightening in my guts.
“A friend of mine at work has been making me take pictures for the last year of all the injuries I’ve sustained in arguments with your dad.”
“Shit.” Why didn’t I think of that?
“I hoped I’d never need them,” she said. “But it turns out I have more than enough evidence to file criminal charges.”
My eyes and nose burned.
“To be honest, it was a bit of a wake-up call when I realized how much I had.”
Flashbacks of cuts and bruises and casts filled my mind. “Where will you go?”
“Well, I have to be out of the house so he can get his things and—”
“You shouldn’t go back there, Mom. Not after everything that’s—”
“I know,” she said. “But I won’t know all my options until things are settled legally with your dad.”
“What are you going to do in the meantime?”
“Mrs. Bennet offered to rent a place for me, but I’m nervous about being alone.”