For You

by Strong, Mimi

  So much for meeting Bell under a calm, controlled situation and not emotionally scarring the kid for life. Part of me wanted to laugh, but the other part of me felt like a disgusting low-life bastard. I had the motorcycle out front, scary tattoos all over my arms, and I was the jerk here. Poor kid.

  I stood at the door, listening as they talked. It didn't sound great, but at least she wasn't screaming anymore.

  Should I leave the bedroom? Stay there until they left for school and then slip away like a ghost?

  The TV came on in the living room, and a moment later, Aubrey let herself back into the bedroom.

  “She's okay,” she said, pushing me back toward the bed.

  “I'm so sorry. This isn't how I wanted this to go.” I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, wishing I could go back in time and not fall asleep like a big, stupid lug.

  “Listen, I wanted you to stay because I couldn't let you leave before I tell you something.”

  Her face was somber, and her tone made me break out in a cold sweat.

  I sat on the bed and she joined me.

  “You can tell me anything,” I said.

  “This isn't like… like I put your portrait in my drawing without asking. Sawyer, this is truly awful, and I want you to know that if you don't like me anymore, that's okay, but please, can you promise you won't tell anyone?”

  I took her hand and squeezed her soft fingers, so tiny and fragile in my banged-up hand.

  “Aubrey, just try me. I can take a lot. You'd be surprised.”

  “The reason I have Bell is because my mother was a lousy parent. She left us.”

  “Okay. Well, you stepped up and took responsibility. That makes you a good person.”

  “She left us with a dead body. Her boyfriend, Derek. We were living at his house, with him, just the four of us. I found him in the kitchen. Blood everywhere. There was a knife, and I guess someone stabbed him with it, because there were these cuts in his shirt. A lot of them.”

  I stared straight ahead at her closet door, no idea what to say.

  She continued, “I heard a noise down the hallway, and I thought for sure whoever killed Derek was going to kill me next. I picked up the knife and went down the hall. Bell was there, rubbing her eyes, just up from her nap. I grabbed her and held her so tight, and I knew right then, that out of all the people in the world, she was the one I cared about. I'd do anything for her.”

  Her hand was still in mine, damp with sweat. Aubrey's words felt heavy in the room.

  “I don't understand. So you mother's in prison?”

  “No, I don't think so. I check the internet at the library for her name every so often, and from what I can tell they never found who killed him.”

  “But you're sure it was her? I'm sorry to say this, but couldn't they both have been killed?”

  She shook her head. “My mother's things were gone. Not just her purse and her jewelry, but some of her clothes, and her suitcase, and her car. I waited for her a while, thinking she'd come back for Bell, if not for me. I never saw her again.”

  “What an awful experience for you. I can't even imagine. We've had some drama with my family, but nothing like that.”

  “There's more.”

  “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

  Her face has an odd expression, like she was looking at something a thousand miles away.

  She continued, “Even after all the shitty things she'd done, I still had some loyalty to my mother. She didn't come back that night or the next morning. So I packed up what few things we could fit in a vehicle, and I made Bell go wait in the chicken shed. I dragged Derek's body into my bedroom, where there was the most amount of wood, and I set the trailer on fire.”

  The room got even heavier than I'd imagined possible as I thought of Aubrey dragging a body around, and setting a fire.

  “I took Derek's car, the one that barely ran, and Bell and I drove away from town with the fire at our backs. I thought for sure we'd only make it a few weeks before they caught up with us, but I hoped my mother would turn herself in. I was only seventeen, and I hoped to buy some time. I didn't want to get put in foster care, but more than that, I didn't want Bell to get put in the system.”

  “And how old did you say you are now?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Why haven't you gotten that all sorted out, then? Gotten custody of her, officially?”

  She turned to me, her face drawn and pale. “I'm scared. What if they think I killed him? Derek and I didn't exactly get along. Plus I burned down the crime scene. At the time, I thought I could blame that on my mother as well, but that was just stupid.” She shook her head, frowning. “I was such a stupid, fucking naïve kid.”

  “You were young. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing.”

  She turned away, her face and her shoulders. “I can understand if you don't want to be with a liar, but please promise you won't tell anyone.”

  “I'm not going anywhere, and I won't tell anyone. But maybe you should talk to a lawyer.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “With what money?”

  “I don't know. We'll think of something. You've told me everything, right? That's the whole story?”

  I reached out and touched her chin, drawing her face toward me.

  She pursed her lips and stared at me a long time, her face unreadable. I started to worry she was going to say something a thousand times worse, like that she'd done worse than steal the car of a dead man and burn his body in a house fire.

  Her voice flat, she said, “That's everything.”

  “What time is school?”

  She blinked, seeming confused.

  I turned back and located the alarm clock. It was just past eight o'clock in the morning.

  “It's ten after eight,” I said. “What time do we need to get Bell to school?”

  “Nine.”

  “Then I guess we should get her some breakfast, right? Should I come out of the bedroom and try to introduce myself again, or do you want me to wait in here until after you're gone?”

  “I don't know.”

  “My shoes are out there, so how about I come out, and if she's upset, I'll just grab my shoes and head for the door.”

  She put her face in her hands. “I thought I'd feel better after I told you the truth, but now everything's twice as bad.”

  I gently pulled her hands away from her face. “Nothing's bad. I'm here with you. I'm on your side, and I won't let anything bad happen to you ever again. I wish I'd been there for you sooner, but I didn't even know you back then. I felt you, in my heart, but I didn't know you.”

  She collapsed in my arms, sobbing. “It's been so hard,” she said.

  I held her tight against me and kissed the top of her head. “I'm here now. I've got you. Everything's going to be all right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aubrey and I got Bell off to school that morning, and she was only a few minutes late. She seemed wary of me, looking to Aubrey each time before she spoke to me, but by the time we got her to school, she was relaxed enough to give me a quick hug goodbye.

  Over the next two months, I got to know Bell a little better.

  I was patient, but persistent.

  Aubrey let me come over almost every day.

  I was careful not to be too affectionate with Aubrey in front of her little sister.

  To my relief, I found that I really liked Bell.

  She could drive you nuts sometimes with questions, but she was a good person.

  Bell liked chocolate, but not white chocolate.

  She had to get completely dressed before she could decide if she liked what she was wearing.

  And she thought holding her body stiff as I bench-pressed her was the greatest thing that could happen to a person.

  I found myself falling in love not with one girl, but with two.

  When the three of us went out, people smiled at us and asked how old our daughter was.

 
“Seven,” Aubrey and I would say at the same time. Seven was my new favorite number. I felt bad for allowing people to think she was my kid, but the world didn't need an explanation.

  I was still living at the house with my roommate, at least until I saved up a bit more cash from my new job. The money was really good, and my savings account would be quite ample after a couple more months.

  Working for my father was no picnic, but by August, he stepped back and let me take over managing the shop sometimes. It was just a few days a week, overseeing the thirty employees, but bringing our jobs in on time and on budget would go a long way to getting my father to have confidence in me.

  My older brother was running a construction company and loving that, so I was all my father had, and he knew it.

  Things were finally coming together in my life, and I felt like a fool for the way I'd been living for the last few years. How had the difficult path become the one that seemed so right? I could still make my art, only now there was no pressure to always be taking new commissions. I could draw for the love of drawing, when I felt like it, because a steady paycheck would be coming from my real work.

  Even my so-called real work had pleasure in it as well. I loved the smell of wood that permeated my clothes after a day at the shop. The workers were closer to my age than to my father's, and they didn't seem to pull as much crap on me, except for the new guys, but that's to be expected. As long as they weren't injuring themselves, that was the best I could hope for with some of the inexperienced guys.

  Another reason I was still living with Spanky, besides it being cheap, was that I had plans to ask Aubrey and Bell to move in with me, or have me move in with them.

  Even though it was fast, it felt right. I was spending three or more nights a week at their apartment as it was, and I figured my rent money could go toward that place, and Aubrey could cut her shifts at the bar. Getting to spend more time with my girlfriend was another benefit.

  I planned to ask her that night at the barbecue, right after I gave her a real ring to replace the fake one she still wore to the bar. Not an engagement ring—we were moving fast, but not that fast—but a ring with a heart, and a tiny red stone. I was also going to tell her I loved her.

  We'd both been stumbling around the word, but it was time for one of us to blink.

  We were going to Bruce's for a big party on the Labor Day weekend, the first weekend in September, and I had a whole talk prepared about how we were so great together, like a team. She inspired me to be a better man, and all that stuff.

  My hands were sweating on the steering wheel when I pulled the car up to her building. The bike wasn't sold yet, but I'd parked it at my parents' garage, and spent some savings on a little Toyota. The car was four years old, low mileage, and the least sexy vehicle I could stomach. I had a look at some minivans, but my pride couldn't take a minivan. There were three seatbelts in the back of the car, so I could easily take Bell and a couple of her friends anywhere.

  Things were definitely looking up for ol' Sawyer Jones, so why did I feel like the ax was about to fall, and my heart was on the chopping block?

  They came skipping out of the building, Bell leading the way in her purple leggings and pink skirt, her hair up in two pigtails. Aubrey had been so worried about introducing Bell to me, but Bell actually took to me way easier than Aubrey did.

  My heart swelled with pride as I imagined watching Bell sing in Christmas pageants and then eventually graduate. By then, Aubrey and I would probably have another kid, and Bell would make such a great big sister. The new kid would have dark hair, and a girl would be cool, but a boy would probably be better so I wasn't completely outnumbered.

  I got out of the car and came around to open the doors for my ladies.

  Bell climbed in and Aubrey followed, both of them sitting in the back seat.

  “Am I your chauffeur?” I shook my head, pretending to be overworked. “I do not get paid enough!”

  As Bell giggled and got her seat belt on, I stole a kiss from Aubrey. When we weren't alone, the kisses always felt stolen, like she was embarrassed to be seen kissing me in public or even in front of Bell. That only made me want her kisses more.

  Her hair smelled clean, and I lingered, unwilling to let go of her lips. Finally, she put her hands on my chest and shoved me out of the car.

  “We're going to be late,” she said.

  “It's a barbecue, not a boat cruise. They won't leave without us.”

  She gave me her stern look, the one I'd seen her use on Bell. It was equally effective on me, and I stopped my goofing around and circled around the car to act as chauffeur.

  The vehicle itself had a scent of fast food, as if the owner had used it to store crumpled paper bags and garbage from all the chains. When the air conditioning came on, I always got a craving for french fries.

  We drove over to Bruce's house, and my mind floated around on the pleasant anticipation of grilled steaks and baked potatoes with all the fixings.

  I rolled the car slowly up the street, looking for numbers. I'd worked for Bruce for about a year, and we were friendly, but I'd never been to his house. Now I was coming as a potential new family member. Life was funny, but sometimes things felt right. Like now.

  I got out of the car and patted my pocket to make sure the ring was still there. The girls got out, but Aubrey seemed distracted. I knew she got stomach aches sometimes from worrying about money, so I asked if she was okay and she muttered that she was “just tired.”

  I patted the square lump in my pocket again and we started to cross the street to Bruce's house. Those delicious steaks were on my mind, and the ring, so when Aubrey tugged my hand and asked for the car keys, I didn't think much of it.

  “What did you forget? Go on ahead, I'll run back to the car and get it for you.”

  She looked at me like I was the world's biggest idiot, and then she kissed me. Deeply. Right on the street in front of everyone.

  “Sawyer,” she said, breathless. “If you love me, give me your keys. Then turn around and go to Bruce's house like everything's normal and tell them Bell got a stomach ache.”

  “I don't understand.” Was there a problem with Bell? No, she was busy, fascinated by some flowers blossoming along the edge of the sidewalk.

  Aubrey kissed me again, then pulled back, her eyes pleading.

  If I loved her, I'd give her my keys.

  That's what she'd said.

  I reached into my pocket, past the ring box, and grabbed the keys for the Toyota.

  She took them from me.

  “Aubrey?”

  She hustled Bell back toward the car, saying they had to run home to get something they'd forgotten.

  Bell said, “Mom, what did we forget?”

  Aubrey glanced back at me over her shoulder, looking so fragile and beautiful and scared. She was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but I still didn't understand.

  Then she got into the car and the two of them drove away.

  That was when I realized that the other cars parked in front of Bruce's house weren't people coming to his barbecue. They were unmarked police cars, two of them.

  I looked up to the front door of Bruce's house and saw two police officers, the RCMP, unmistakable with their yellow-hued stripes down the outer edges of their pants, standing on the porch.

  The red tail lights blinked out of sight. Aubrey was already gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bell was crying by the time we got back to the apartment in Sawyer's car.

  Her cries tore at my heart until I was numb.

  I wasn't thinking straight, just acting on instinct. The overwhelming urge to run.

  Run.

  Up in the apartment, I pulled the suitcases out from under the bed and started throwing things in. I needed time to think, and not the kind of time you have sitting in a holding cell, which was where I was so sure I was headed.

  I could hear people down at the front door, loud male voices.

 
That was fast.

  Had Uncle Bruce given them my address so easily? I didn't have time to feel betrayed. I yanked out the bottom drawer of the dresser in Bell's room and pulled off the cash I had taped to the bottom. We wouldn't get far, but I had a few options, including a women's shelter not far away. I had to pray Sawyer didn't report his car as stolen in the meantime.

  My cell phone kept ringing and beeping, so I turned it off. I unplugged the intercom, and heard only the sound of Bell having her tantrum.

  “Why can't we see Uncle Bruce?” she wailed. “I'm telling!”

  Would the police be busting down my door any minute?

  I stared at the packed bags. I'd been so stupid, settling down in one place. Now it was over.

  I stood by the front door of the apartment and slid down to the floor, my back against the wall.

  It was over.

  The other times I ran away, I had nothing to leave behind. Now I had all these people who cared about me. Even Lana, with her ridiculous stories. What was the point in being alive if I couldn't be around all these people?

  Time was ticking.

  I should have grabbed the packed suitcase and dragged Bell out the door.

  But I didn't.

  I was twenty-one, and it was finally time to stop running and face whatever was in store for me. I wouldn't die. I'd tell the truth, and I'd beg for mercy.

  I sat there, drifting in and out of what felt like sleep but offered no relief.

  An hour or more passed.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  I was too weak to move.

  “Aubrey?”

  My heart leaped to my throat.

  “It's Sawyer,” he said. “Your neighbor let me in downstairs. You have to open the door.”

  “Are the police with you?”

  “No.”

  In her room, Bell had long since stopped freaking out and fallen asleep in her clothes, at the foot of her bed. I heard her stirring now, awakened by Sawyer.

  I got to my feet and pulled open the door, my whole body shaking. The look on Sawyer's face was not reassuring.

  “What's happening?”

  He looked past me, at the suitcases, and my heart broke for how hurt he looked.