by Ines Vieira
When my dad finally arrived, she didn’t return to her usual self as I had hoped. Sometimes when I looked into her glazy eyes, it was hard to witness that this was what my mother had been reduced to. She looked like she was just sleepwalking through her life and ours. But the medication was doing something. She had gotten a little bit of her appetite back and she hadn’t left the house in her nightgown. So we were all looking at the silver lining on that one.
Before my father’s return, he called constantly to check up on us. When mom told him what was going on he was devastated. I knew he blamed himself, even if I didn’t hear my mother try to console him every night. She’s the one that is sick, and she consoles him. Ironic, really. That missing him caused her so much pain that she lost it, yet he’s the one that feels lost. I don’t want to, but I’m starting to feel numb to it all. I know that Nicky sees this as plain old selfishness, but really I couldn’t cope any other way. The tablets on the kitchen counter, the medication in my parents bathroom, my mother constantly throwing up every morning because the drugs are just too strong for her frail body, her constant trips to the hospital. All of it. I accept it all as my new life now and dull out any happiness that can occur in these four walls. Happiness is the illusion. Isaac was right after all.
Isaac.
That’s another bubble waiting to burst. The only times that I’m not comatose is when he’s with me. He was true to his word. He’s been nothing but supportive. He hasn’t kissed me since that night nor has he mentioned anything that would make me feel uncomfortable or pressured. I don’t know if I could have handled it otherwise. He’s also the only one that has seen me break down. Not even Jess or Ronnie has seen me at my most vulnerable. They want to believe that everything is back to normal and that nothing bad can happen to our trio. But it has. Yet I can´t show this to them. I can't show them how much this has rattled me. I don’t know if they would get it anyway. Their parents are a force to be reckoned with. They are a strong united front while my parents are separated by distance, and even the love that binds them is so codependent that my mother’s personality did a complete 180. How can loving someone be that unhealthy? That toxic that you would lose all your identity? I use to envy my parents. I remember as a child I used to wish that type of love for me when I grew up. Now, it scares me completely. If that is what happens when you find your soul mate, then I don’t want anything like that ever to touch my heart.
But then there is Isaac. There is always Isaac. My best friend, my confident, my family. When I’m with him I have to remind myself constantly not to give him my heart. I was right in preserving our friendship first and he was right when he told me that life is pain. Falling in love is just heartbreak waiting to happen. Yet, it’s on his lap that I cry. It’s in his embrace that I seek comfort. It’s with him that I feel like myself. I can fall apart in front of him and not worry that it’s too much for him to handle.
My Isaac is broken too. It’s in my arms that he lets go of the anger. It’s on my shoulder that he shows me his inner pain. It’s in my lap that he cries out his frustrations, his feelings of helplessness. It’s in each other that we can just be. I know that this should terrify me and at times, I am terrified. Sometimes I wish that he never came back to Plymouth. I wish that I had never befriended him. I wish all that because I know deep down that there will be a day that I will miss him too damn much. It scares me to think that I could become the woman that I stare at the dinner table every night. But then I see him again, and all my fears evaporate into thin air, and I throw caution to the wind every time.
That frightens me even more.
CHAPTER 16
ISAAC
Since that memorable Thanksgiving night, I am now a welcomed guest at the Mackenzie household. I find myself spending more and more time here than at my own house. Before her dad came, I felt that my visits were actually welcomed as a great distraction from what this family was dealing with. Cass no longer kept me at arm’s length and had full heartedly let me in and so had her mom. Jules was an amazing woman, which made her illness that more devastating. When she was having one of her good days it was impossible not to see how important she was to this family. She had a light all of her own. A smile that made you feel important, meaningful. Cass was so much like her that it was hard not to imagine how she would look like later on in life. Smart, funny, kind and breathtaking. On the bad days, though, I hardly saw her mom at all. Cass would make sure that we didn’t go to her house on those days. I think that the thought of me seeing her mom again, the same way as on that night, terrified her.
Then Cass’s dad came home. I had to admit that I was both fascinated and jealous of the man. The great Christopher Mackenzie. I had built him up in my mind in two very different scenarios. One he was as perfect as a father could be. Loving to his kids and to his wife. Loyal to a fault like his son and amazingly kindhearted like his daughter. The other scenario was that he was just some asshole that took his family for granted and didn’t realize that most people would kill for what he had. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk. Unfortunately, he was anything but. When I first met him, there was no denying that he was the true alpha male of the house and that the whole family revolved around him. It was as if he was the magnet that held this family together. If Cass was her mother's daughter, then Nick was definitely his father's son. They were almost identical save for the older man having a few gray hairs in those dark locks. He had the same gray eyes and the same height, if not a couple of centimeters taller as Cass’s younger brother. His build would intimate any guy into thinking twice about messing around with anything this man loves. And that’s when you saw the contradiction to his big presence. I had been coming around for a couple of weeks before his return, but I had only heard true laughter when he arrived. He had a way about him that was easy and comfortable. I saw the spark in this family’s eyes when he was near.
But I also saw the pain in his. He was good at hiding it but I recognized it immediately and I couldn’t figure out how everyone else didn’t pick up on it like I had.
One afternoon, I was on the living room couch with Cass, Binge watching Sons of Anarchy on Netflix, when I turned around and saw Cass’s dad hug Jules in the kitchen. They held on to each other in such a loving embrace, that I knew I should avert my eyes. I knew that I shouldn’t stare, but the whole image was so heartbreaking that I couldn’t look away. I was too far away to make out what they were saying to each other, but I recognized pain when I saw it. I understood the ache and helplessness in that man’s eyes as he stroked his wife’s face. Sadness was ingrained in his. I saw the life leave out of him with every word she spoke. It was heart-wrenching to watch a man that big lose it and see that frail small woman hold him together. Yeah, he could be the magnet that held this family together, but she was the heart.
And no one can live without their heart.
“What’s up?” I heard her voice and it pulled me back to reality. I look at her face and moved the lock of auburn hair away from her eyes.
“Nothing. You want me to choose another episode or do you want to watch something else?” I ask with my hands already locked on the remote.
“No way! They’ve been arrested, I got to see how this turns out.” She smiles and leans her head on my shoulder.
“But haven’t you seen all of this before? I mean it’s not like its going to be a surprise for you.” I simper.
“Well yeah, but that’s not the point. You haven't seen it so it’s like I’m seeing the series all over again.” I feel her smile on my shoulder.
“Okay, whatever. I still can't believe you have the hots for a biker.” I tease. “A gun smuggling biker. You know that makes him the bad guy, right?” She looks up at me and rolls her eyes while giving me that knee buckling grin. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down.
“Jax Teller is not the bad guy. He just has to do bad things. He’s misunderstood, that’s all.”
“Very Cass of you.” She looks at me intrigued. “I
mean, always looking for the good in people when there isn’t any. One day you’ll be wrong, you know? One day you’ll see that the bad guy is just that – a bad guy.”
“Well, I’m a big believer in second chances. I mean I thought you were a jerk at first. What if I didn’t give you a second chance to prove me wrong, huh?” Then I would have never known that love was even possible for me. Then I would have never found out that a person could hold so much power over me and that is scaring me shitless. Then I would have never found my purpose in life. Being hers, but I can't say this to her so I just shrug my shoulders and put on the next episode that she is eagerly waiting to see.
“Are you going to do anything tomorrow night? I mean it is New Years Eve. Do you think you’ll come over to Jess’s?” She sluggishly leans in closer without taking her eyes off the TV. “Probably not. Dad is leaving in three days, so might as well take advantage of the time he’s still here.”
I nod even though she can't see me. Ever since her dad came back she has only left the house to go to the youth center and even when she’s there I know that she would have preferred to be home. Even Nick’s been spending most of his time here. It’s like they’re all stocking up on their dad so that they have enough of him for when he leaves again.
I feel a pang of guilt envying them, though. I would rather be apart from a loving father like Cass and Nicky have then spend one more second with the poor excuse of a dad that I have. These festive occasions are the worst. There is always an excuse as to why he came home falling-down drunk. His pretenses on that have long vanished. I’ve heard my uncle on numerous occasions call him out on it, but he just shrugs it off saying that my uncle had forgotten what a good time looks like. If only my uncle knew the real truth behind his brother’s patronizing smile.
My mother has stayed over at my grandma’s house these past weeks. She had been able to use the excuse that she didn’t like to see my grandmother alone on the holidays and thought that it would be nice just to stay with her a couple of days. I knew better, though. Holidays meant booze for dear old dad, and booze meant that his temper would not be in check, which meant sleeping in the same room with that monster would be an ever ending nightmare. Never knowing what you could say that would set him off. Even your silence could set off one of his triggers and his backhand. He had also been in more of a foul mood recently. The offer on my Nana’s house had fallen through and his hopes of getting his hands on my mother’s inheritance were deflating.
This made me even happier knowing that she had my grandmother’s home to run to. He would stay clear of that house at least. I, on the other hand, preferred to stay back at my Uncle Carlos's place. It was a 5-minute drive to Cass’s house, and I preferred to be near her in case she needed me. I just tried to stay clear of the asshole when I was at home. It hadn’t been too hard. Locked my door every night and made sure to be out the house before he woke up, which was usually around noon anyway.
I had seen the changes in my own household lately, too. Neither Jess nor my aunt seemed comfortable around my father anymore. I think that they also sensed the pure evil that lived beneath those black eyes. My uncle though was a lot like Cass. He believed in the good in people, even when there was none to find. I worried about how he would handle it if the shit really hit the fan with my father. Would my uncle be strong enough to push him aside, or would he give him a second chance at redemption? It’s scary to see these things unfold. To witness such polar opposites and know that the same blood courses through them. I mean I had gotten the shitty father, but it could have easily been anyone of my cousins in the same situation. I don’t believe it had anything to do with bad genes or bad upbringing. They all had the same background, and only my father was polluted with resentment and vileness. I sometimes would stay up nights thinking if being his son meant that I was just as corrupt and perverted as him. But I knew I wasn’t. I might have anger inside of me, but all of it is a reflection of his actions, not my own. If he didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have any reason to be angry. My hatred started and ended with him.
“You’re not paying attention.” Cass stretches her legs on the couch and pulls up a soft blue blanket to cover herself. She places one of the throw pillows on my lap and places her head on top. I have easy access to her neck and hair as it falls on my lap. Jules' hair is bright red with golden streaks, it has so many powerful colors that it captivates you instantly. Cassandra’s hair is discreet compared to her mother’s. It's darker but no less enthralling. Like the girl in front of me, it seems almost conservative, until you see the full layers of perfection that it holds.
“Shut up and watch your show. I’m paying attention.” I’m just paying attention to her more. I love these days when she is relaxed. When her worries evaporate from her mind and when she can just be a seventeen-year-old girl with me. I get up the courage to put my arm around her waist and place my hand on her stomach under the hidden security of her blanket. I feel her body relax next to mine and I stroke her hair with my other hand. Gently and softly like I would to her body if I ever got the chance again. I feel her move and I think to myself that she’s going to get up. Maybe I’ve made her too uncomfortable with this type of intimacy. But she doesn’t move away. Instead, she grabs the hand that is on her stomach and holds it higher on her chest. Right where her heart is. She strokes my hand as softly as I stroke her auburn hair. I’m not paying attention now to anything but her. If she didn’t know how I felt before, my pounding heart was a great indicator. I felt it loud enough that it overshadowed the gunfire on the TV screen.
It was pretty obvious to everyone that Cassandra held my undivided attention with every move she made. Only a blind fool would think otherwise. It was evident to everyone that saw us together, the only one still not willing to discuss it was Cass. I had promised her that I would be what she needed, and expecting her to feel the same as me when her whole life was so unpredictable and chaotic was just selfish. I would give her time to process all that was happening with her family and come to terms with it, before even attempting to have that conversation.
But then this stuff happened and it totally messed up my head. When she reached out for me to hold her hand on the street, or when she held onto me looking for me to console her, it fucking messed with my mind, as well as my heart.
On various occasions, I wanted to scream out how much I loved her. How much she had changed me into believing in something that I thought would never really happen to a guy like me. I mean I’m a broken mess. How the hell did I get this lucky that a girl like Cass would even look at me twice, let alone become my best friend? But could she be more, though? I mean I knew she was attracted to me. I’m not that naive or humble for that matter. I know the stares I get from girls isn’t necessarly because they admire my high SAT scores. I didn’t want to consider the fact that it could only be that. This was way more than just physical for her, right? It couldn’t be just that, could it?
No. I know she felt something for me even if she didn’t want to admit it. At least not yet, but soon she would be able to see that we fit. She would be able to reach the same conclusion that I have. Even if it sounds corny as hell, she would have to accept the fact that we belonged together.
Wouldn’t she? I loathed the uncertainty of it all. Not really knowing where we stood, ate at me day after day. I hated not knowing if she had fallen for me the same way I obviously had for her. Then these little moments happened that made me hope. Made me think that there was a possibility. Made me dream of days when I could tell her all the words she deserved to hear and make her feel cherished. Because at the end of the day, I cherished every moment I had with her. I cherished every laugh and engraved it deep in my soul. Would she ever give me that opportunity? Would she ever let herself be mine? I’d be patient. I would wait. Like a trained puppy waiting by the door for its owner to arrive home from work, I would wait patiently for her. Wait until she was ready to realize that she loved me too.
Yeah, I would wait.
C
ASS
Suddenly, I felt that someone was shaking me awake.
“Cass honey, wake up. It's time. Wake up.” It took some time for me to get my bearings. I was in my room in bed and I could just make out the figure that was shaking me as my mother.
Was I late for school? Did I oversleep? I tried to make out what time it was. I looked to the window and saw that it was completely dark outside.
“Mom? What time is it?”
“It’s time baby. Your father is coming home. Hurry. You’ll be late.” My mom said, still sitting next to me on the bed.
“What?” I said still half asleep and confused. I turned to my nightstand and picked up my mobile. “Mom, it’s not even 2 am yet. Go back to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.” I said trying to roll over to the other side of the bed and get back to sleep.
“No baby, you don’t understand. Your father is coming home today. He’ll be so sad if no one is at the airport to pick him up. I need you to get dressed and go get him. Please, Cass, wake up,” mom said shaking me again. I was awake now but felt as if I was in a dream, still. What was my mother saying? My father wasn’t coming home today. I had spoken to my father last night. He had just returned to Alaska a couple of weeks ago, with no real idea as to when he could come back. There was no one to pick up at the airport. This much I knew.
I looked at my mother and she still looked the same as always, yet she didn’t. Her hair was loose and she was in a tattered old white nightgown. Her eyes were wild, with some urgency, which made me feel like a lost little girl. Now I’m frightened.
“Mom... Dad’s not coming today. Dad doesn’t know when he’s coming back... remember? We spoke with him last night. Remember?” I tried desperately to explain, hoping that these words would make my mother gain some clarity. I held her hand trying to offer some kind of comfort and, maybe, trying to bring my mom back to reality.