Eluding Fate

by Delilah Mohan

  The reel of memories assaulted me. The knock at the door. The men in uniforms. His funeral. The way Victoria went from loving me to hating me overnight like she knew it was all my fault. Like even at her young age, she blamed me for the damage I selfishly caused. Not that I blamed her for feeling that way. I blamed myself, too.

  “Take a deep breath.” I did what she asked, knowing if I didn’t, it would take longer to find my niece. “Good, there you go. I’ll help you find her.”

  She let go of my arm and let me pass, not bothering to stop me this time. I was thankful for that, because each second was ticking by, each minute was stretching out, and if I didn’t find my niece, I might never forgive myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mari

  I heard his screams echoing through the wall of my apartment. The pure panic and fear alerting me to a problem. Without even thinking, I put on my shoes, grabbed my cell phone, and left my apartment, determined to track Spencer down.

  I ran into him by the stairs that descended from the roof. His eyes looked wild, his movements hurried, anxiety pouring off him. “What is it? I could hear you from my apartment.”

  He tried to walk around me, “She’s gone. I looked everywhere inside, and she’s gone.”

  I knew he wasn’t thinking, reason definitely was not present at the moment. “Do you think she just went for a walk?”

  He tried to shoulder past me again, his big body would have met no resistance if he actually decided to use force. “She would have told me.”

  I wouldn’t have. He was a jerk, and I didn’t blame Victoria for wanting to have a moment to herself. I grabbed his arm, holding it tightly in my grip to force him to stop walking, “Spencer, just stop for a second. Calm down.”

  He tried to yank his arm away, but I wouldn’t release my hold. “Don’t you get it, Mari? It’s happening again, and it’s my fault!”

  But, I didn’t get it. How could I understand what was happening if he didn’t talk to me? I let him know just that, trying to encourage him to speak and letting him know that despite how angry I was at him, we were in this together.

  He spilled his story, filled with so much guilt and irrational fears that my heart broke for him. But it all made sense. If he thought the five minutes he was late caused his brother to die, it was no wonder he was so crazy about time and being punctual. The guilt he carried had to be weighing him down, and tonight, maybe for the first time, I really saw his turmoil. I really saw him.

  “Take a deep breath,” I instructed him, trying to get him to relax a bit. After I watched him gulp in a huge breath of air and slowly release it, I offered, “Good, there you go. I’ll help you find her.”

  I let go of his arm, and he didn’t waste a moment to look back at me. He headed down the hall, most likely planning to bypass the elevator and go straight for the stairs. I watched him until he disappeared before heading back to his apartment.

  Logic told me she didn’t run away. Despite her hurt feelings she loved him, they loved each other. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need some space. I searched the drawer in the kitchen for some paper and pen, then left her a note telling her that if she got here before we did, to stay put.

  Knowing that Spencer wasn’t mentally at his peak and left his car keys on the counter, I assumed he was on foot, so I took my car. I drove around the streets slowly, trying to think about all the places I would go if I wanted alone time at twelve. I drove past the library. Checked the park. Searched the schoolyard. I even did a quick walk through the mall, hoping I would spot her sipping lemonade at the food court. My search came up empty.

  I sent a text to Spencer, hoping he’s had more success.

  Me: Any luck?

  Spencer: None. It’s been an hour.

  Spencer: That’s 60 minutes.

  Me: I know, we’ll find her. Have you checked her friend’s houses?

  Spencer: I’ve called everyone I could think of.

  Me: Keep looking, we’ll find her.

  Spencer: But, when?

  Me: We’ll find her.

  I shoved my phone into my back pocket and sat in the car, hugging the steering wheel. I didn’t want to be wrong, but with each second that passed, I was beginning to feel like I’d caught Spencer’s anxiety. I glanced up at the sky, noting the darkening clouds, trying to measure the amount of time before the rain let loose. My guess was thirty minutes tops. Thirty minutes or else she wouldn’t only be left out alone, but she would be wet and cold, caught in a storm. Incoming rain added a whole new worry, and I tried to calm myself enough to think.

  In the past, when I had a problem or issue, I would talk to my mom. Knowing that she was always in my corner to cheer me on, no matter how right or wrong I was, gave me comfort. If she was here, she might be able to help me figure out a place to look, maybe help me figure out how to help Spencer, not just in his search for Victoria, but in whatever hurt he was drowning in.

  “If my mom was here . . .” I said out loud to the empty car.

  But she wasn’t.

  I signed, trying to push the dreariness of the truth to the back of my mind. “If my mom was here. . .” I repeated.

  The silence fell over the car, stifling me for a moment. God, I wanted to do this. I wanted to find her, but I wasn’t cut out for this. I didn’t know how to be a mother or even play one for that matter. My stomach jolted at that thought. Is that what I was trying to do? Is that how Victoria saw me? I hoped not. I’d never counted myself as motherly, and I’d never actually planned on having children of my own.

  Focus, I chastised myself. I needed to stay focused on finding her and worry about misconceptions later. “If my mother were here, she would tell me to look. . .”

  I blinked a few times, feeling like an idiot for overlooking the obvious. My mother wasn’t here, I knew that, but when I wanted to speak with her, I always ended up in one place. What were the chances Victoria would do the same?

  I put the car in drive, heading to the cemetery at a speed far faster than was probably legal. The clouds looked angrier the closer I got, and when I pulled into the lot and parked my car, the first clap of thunder erupted.

  I threw open my car door, brushing the hair out of my eyes as I searched around for her. If I hadn’t known where to look, I probably would have missed her. She had formed herself into a tiny ball to help fight against the wind, and her body was leaning against a tree. She was a speck in the distance, but still, her presence called to me, filling my body with relief for her safety.

  I pulled out my phone, gripping it tightly.

  Me: Cemetery, I’ll watch her from a distance until you get here.

  Part of me wanted to go to her, wrap her in my arms, and bask in her safety. But there was another part, the more reasonable part that knew that as long as I watched and ensured her safety, nothing more was required. It was up to Spencer to fix this, to have a talk that he obviously let become long overdue.

  Spencer: I’m five minutes out from the apartment. I’ll get my car and be there in ten.

  The drive took longer than ten minutes, but for now, I wasn’t going to mention that.

  Me: She’s safe, drive careful.

  Spencer: I will. And Mari, thank you.

  I didn’t bother responding to his text. In truth, now that the fear of Victoria was out of the way, a huge part of me was still angry at Spencer. I gave him my trust, my honesty, the fragility of my soul, but he didn’t believe in me enough to do the same. I wasn’t enough to receive the same.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Spencer

  The first raindrop hit my windshield the moment I pulled into the cemetery parking lot. The second shortly followed, and by the time I parked, my window was covered with them.

  I grabbed my umbrella and met Mari, who was leaning against the bumper of her car, letting the sprinkling of water fall onto her skin and attach itself like glistening jewels to her hair. “Hey,” I said lamely.

  “Hey,” she replied back, not bo
thering to look at me, but keeping her eyes focused on my niece.

  “Thanks for finding her. I would have never checked here,” I admitted.

  She nodded. “Go talk with her.”

  She stood up and stretched, then got into her car, slamming the door to shut out the rain, to shut me out. Her car hummed to life beside me, and she tossed me a pitiful wave as she pulled out of the lot, most likely heading home.

  I approached Victoria slowly, trying to gather my thoughts along the way. Using the feather in my pocket, the one I pulled from Mari’s hair the night we first kissed, I twirled it in my fingers using it as a source to ground me here, to offer comfort that Mari normally would give, and to encourage me to speak, to move forward with this moment, and talk to my niece.

  Victoria didn’t bother glancing at me until I stood over her, hovering. I sat next to her, feeling the wet mud shift under the weight of my body. Placing the umbrella between us, I let us sit in silence for a few minutes. When the silence became heavy, weighed down by what hadn’t been said, I finally let myself talk. “I know that I’m not good at this. Your dad had more father material in his pinky than I do in my whole body. I don’t know the right things to say or do, or even how to show you I care, but there has never been a moment in my life where I’ve regretted having you.”

  I watched her finger draw shapes into the mud between us, her silence so loud it was deafening. “I didn’t mean what I said. I know it was harsh, but I wasn’t angry at you. I don’t even think I was angry at Mari. But, can I be honest with you?”

  She nodded her head, listening, but not speaking. “I felt exposed. Raw. And maybe I lashed out.” She leveled me with a serious stare. “Okay, I did lash out, but I didn’t know what to do because it felt too much. But, I’m sorry and even as it was happening, I knew I was wrong, but I couldn’t stop, and I’m sorry about that, too.”

  “It’s not your fault, you know.” She didn’t look at me but continued her patterns in the mud.

  “What’s not?”

  “His death. I know you blame yourself, and maybe at one time I did, too. But it isn’t your fault that he died, and you lived. Even if you had been on time, and he made it past the pileup, who’s to say fate wouldn’t have gotten some way?”

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to level my emotions. “It’s hard to not feel responsible sometimes.”

  She leaned her head against my shoulder. “He wouldn’t blame you.”

  I knew she was right; my brother wouldn’t have blamed me, wouldn’t have held me responsible for an accident that I couldn’t control, but that didn’t make it easier. What did make it easier was blaming myself, assuming responsibility for my actions that led up to the events because then I could feel something, and time couldn’t take that away. Time couldn’t take away my guilt.

  “I finished my thousand paper cranes.” She rocked her knee against mine.

  “You did?” I asked, knowing the answer, but humoring her.

  “I did,” she confirmed right before she took the umbrella from my hand and turned her body toward mine.

  I knew I had to tell her it was all a fable, and maybe, I really should have told her sooner. “Look, about the paper cranes . . .”

  She held up her hand. “Stop Spencer. I know it won’t bring him back.”

  My shoulders dropped as tension was released. “You do?”

  “I mean, at first, I hoped. I really hoped it would help, but somewhere along the way, I realized that it couldn’t happen. It wasn’t possible.”

  I reached over and squeezed her knee. “So why didn’t you stop? That was a lot of work.”

  “Because I saw the way you looked at Mari, and I guess . . . well, I guess I just wanted you to be happy.”

  My heart jolted. “I’m happy with you, kid.”

  She shoved her shoulder into me. “I’m not a kid.”

  I held my hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry, I forgot.”

  She rolled her eyes in the fluent way that can only come with the practice of a teen girl. “But, I’m serious. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted both of you to be happy. So, that was my wish, that’s why I made all the cranes. I was going to share it with you earlier.”

  “I know saying I’m sorry doesn’t mean much when it’s done repeatedly, but I am.” And I was, nothing felt worse than hurting her, or Mari. “I should probably tell you that we are together, now. Well, were together. Now, I’m not so sure what we are.”

  “I know. How could I not, you weren’t exactly quiet while you were praising the heavens.” I saw her smirk. “Also, if you can cuss why can’t I?”

  I felt my face grow red with embarrassment. “How about you can say damn as much as you want when I’m not around if you promise to never bring this up again?”

  “Deal.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. “You know, you’re going to have to apologize to her, don’t you?”

  I knew I would, and I could only hope it wasn’t too late to fix our relationship because I meant what I said, I did love her. “I know.”

  “Like, big gesture, swallow your pride, groveling.”

  “I know. But, I’m not so sure it would help. I broke her trust, and trust is important to her.” I stood up, fighting the urge to wipe the mud off my ass.

  “Like, crawl on the ground, kiss her toes, sucking up.”

  “Believe me, I know!” I said, exasperated. “But don’t get your hopes up. As long as it’s you and me, everything will work out fine. Promise.” I reached down, offering my hand to help her up. “Thanks, kid.”

  “For what?” She had no problem wiping the mud from her behind, smearing it everywhere in the process.

  “For keeping me in check and forgiving me.” I pulled her close, giving her a bear hug as I had done so many times when she was a kid.

  She pushed at me, trying to escape. “Well, someone has to. If it were up to you, you’d be a disaster.”

  “I am a disaster,” I chuckled then I tossed my arm over her shoulder, thankful to have her in my life. Thankful for all she had taught me so far, and all that I no doubt still had to learn. We walked back to my car together, sharing my single umbrella. Our shoulders hunched close, our shoes heavy with mud and grass, and the icy drops showering down around us.

  I no longer felt the heaviness that had been slowly suffocating me since the moment I learned of Simon’s death because now I knew, or maybe I had always known and refused to believe, that it wasn’t my fault. That didn’t mean I would miss him less, only that it made missing him a little easier. Victoria and Mari, they made missing him a little easier . . . everything just a little bit easier, really.

  I knew it wouldn’t always be simple, and I would have my good days mixed in with the bad. I might have days that weigh my feet with lead from the guilt I carried and days when I practically glided from the freedom I felt. But, the only difference now was I realized I wasn’t alone. I never was, and I only hoped that one day I could make up all that lost time with Victoria, all the hugs and ice cream dates, food fights and movie marathons because she was worth it, she had always been worth every minute of it.

  My steps slowed as we approached my car. I clicked my key fob to unlock the doors then followed Victoria to the passenger side. I opened the door so she could slide inside. Taking a step back, her hand gripped my arm stopping me. “What’s next Spencer?”

  “What do you mean?” I held the umbrella higher, continuing to shield her from the rain.

  “I mean, what’s next for us, for our family?”

  Family. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump down my throat. I liked the sound of that. I smiled down at her, using my free hand to brush away some wet hair that was pasted to her forehead. “Family?”

  She socked my arm. “Stop it, Uncle Spencer, we’ve always been family. But, Mari, she is too.”

  I felt a stabbing pain in my chest, but I struggled to keep my face neutral. I nodded my head in agreement with her statement, but I didn’t really have an answer because
I didn’t know. I didn’t know if she would forgive me, but I hoped she would. Instead, I shrugged my shoulder, trying to pretend that the outcome wouldn’t bother me however it turned out. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

  She crossed her arms and sighed, the move so familiar and infuriating every single time, before she accepted my answer for what it was, uncertainty, then plopped her muddy self directly on my white interior seats.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  SPENCER

  Mari didn’t want to be my band-aid, at least that’s what she said. That when she was at her own emotional low, she sought help through therapy, and strength through friends, but until I was able to accept and move in the direction to fix myself, there was no way for us to work because covering wounds up doesn’t mean they are healed.

  The first week, I knocked on her door every day, but it never opened. Her strength kept the door closed, my weakness kept me knocking. By day eight of her locked door, I was cracking. My mind was cracking, my heart was cracking, my soul separated from its other half, had cracked.

  “This isn’t forever,” Victoria said as she slid down to the ground next to me beside Mari’s door.

  “It’s been eight days,” I informed her.

  “She’ll come around when she’s ready, when you’re ready.” She patted my knee like she was the adult instead of my twelve-year-old niece.

  “I’m ready now.”

  She leveled me with a get real look, “Are you? Are you really?”

  Yes. No. I wasn’t really sure, honestly, and maybe that was my answer. If I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be in a relationship, then I probably wasn’t.

  “You know, I have an idea, Uncle Spencer, but I need you to trust me.” She leaned her head on my shoulder as we sat in the hall.

  “There is nobody I trust more.” I kicked her foot with mine.

  She jumped up, “Good, let’s go then.” She held out her hand to pull me up, and I hesitated. I was torn between putting space between Mari’s door or adding space between my niece and me, and even though I hesitated, the choice wasn’t really a choice at all. Victoria would always win over what I wanted, even if the space meant adding a little extra fracture to my heart.