Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1)

by Abigail Davies

  “No! Mommy! Please don’t leave me again!”

  My eyes spring open and I bolt upright in bed, my body on high alert as I hit the switch on the bedside light and curse as it feels like I’m burning my eyeballs from the inside out.

  My ears perk up, telling me that there’s something that caused me to wake up. I concentrate on the bedroom door that is ajar, trying to work out what woke me, but when I don’t hear anything for several seconds, I settle back down.

  “Mommy? Mommy?” I’m up out of the bed as soon as I hear Clay’s pleading, my legs working overtime to get to him.

  My feet slap against the cold marble floor and I pump my arms harder, turning the corner.

  “Moooooommy!” My heart thumps in my chest like the loud beat of a drum and my hands start to shake as I hear the sorrow in his voice; searching for something that he won’t ever find.

  I push his bedroom door open, watching as he thrashes about in his bed, the covers entwined around his legs as his arms flail wildly around him.

  “No! Mommy! Please don’t leave me again!”

  I gasp, not able to hold it in as I rush to him, falling onto my knees beside his bed as I gently shake his shoulder.

  He doesn’t stop calling out for her, even when his eyes open, his head whipping from side to side. His eyes finally settle on mine, but he’s not looking at me, he’s searching for something—for his mom.

  “Clay? Buddy?”

  “Mom—” His little face screws up when he realizes where he is and who he’s staring at. “Dad?” he sobs.

  “Yeah, buddy. It’s Dad,” I croak out, my voice betraying me.

  I pull him against me, rocking him back and forth as I try my hardest to calm him down and comfort not only him, but myself too.

  You’d think that after the amount of nightmares he’s had, I’d know exactly what to do, but I feel as lost now as I did when he had his first one only weeks after we lost Natalia.

  They’re becoming more and more frequent lately.

  I have an idea of what his nightmares are about, but he’s never once told me himself. The screaming out for Natalia is all I need to know what about what happens in them.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, pulling back and hoping against all hope that this one time, he’ll answer me.

  I’m graced with the same shake of the head that I always get as he lays his head back on my chest.

  “Okay,” I answer, swallowing against my dry throat as I pick him and one of his nightlights up. “Shall we go to Daddy’s room?”

  He nods his head against my shoulder and I stand, rubbing his back in soothing motions as I make my way down to my room, the nightlight showing us the way.

  All I want is to fix what’s going on and to make things better for him. I can’t imagine what it must be like for him to have these nightmares; to see her in his dreams and then open his eyes and she’s gone all over again. I’m exhausted thinking about it so I can’t even begin to imagine what he goes through when it happens.

  As soon as we’re in my room, I pull the covers back and settle him on the other side of the bed. He buries his head in the pillow, pulling his knees up to his chest as he keeps his gaze connected to mine.

  “Go to sleep now, buddy. I’m here.”

  “Okay,” his small rough voice replies as he lets his eyes close slowly.

  I wince at the sound of his voice, knowing that he’ll probably have a sore throat in the morning from all the screaming that he did.

  Pulling the covers back, I slide in beside him, watching as he closes his eyes fully, but I don’t relax until his breathing evens out and I know that he’s asleep. And even then, I lie as still as a statue, watching him in case he starts to dream about her again.

  The smile on my face falls as soon as I see Izzie and Clayton’s downturned faces as they walk up the cobblestone path, Tristan following behind them, running his hand through his hair.

  Clayton throws open the door, making the bell clash, and immediately walks over to the beanbags, turning his back to us as he sits down. Izzie clings on to Tristan’s leg, looking between her brother and her dad.

  I walk over to them and Tristan clears his throat, bending down to Izzie’s height. “Daddy has to go now.” She clings onto his arm instead so I kneel down next to him and her gaze flits to mine.

  “Hey, Izzie. Tilly could use some help setting up for today, do you think you could be a big girl and help out?” She shakes her head and buries her face into Tristan’s shoulder. “Well, that’s a shame. I heard that she has a new story about a unicorn but she has no one to tell it to.”

  She lifts her head slightly, her eyes flicking over to my mom. “She does?”

  I nod enthusiastically and scrunch up my shoulders in faux excitement. She giggles and grabs Tristan’s face, kissing him square on the lips and skipping off over to the other side of the room.

  We both stand up and he blows out a deep breath. “Thanks, I thought we were nearing another meltdown.”

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, my eyes finding Clayton with his head stuck firmly in a book. He looks like he’s reverted back to the boy that turned up on week one.

  He huffs. “I… He had a bad night.” He gazes at Clayton, his eyes shining with sadness. “I don’t think I should leave him.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come out of his shell once we start the session,” I say, smiling reassuringly at him.

  He looks between us both and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Alright, I won’t be far. If he needs me, give me a call.”

  “I will.” He shoots me a small wave, turning and walking right into the door while trying to push on it. “It’s a pull,” I say, trying to stifle the giggle that’s bubbling its way up my throat.

  He pulls it open and looks back at me, his face turning bright red. “Right... Laters.”

  Laters? What is he, a teenager?

  He closes the door and I let out the giggle that I was holding in, staring after him. He turns around again and grins before shooting me a wink, causing me to blush.

  Mom sidles up beside me and crosses her arms over her chest with a smirk on her face. “Something catch your attention? Or should I say someone?”

  I roll my eyes at her and walk off toward the front of the room, ignoring her comment and clapping my hands together to get everyone’s attention.

  “Morning, everyone.” I receive a chorus of mornings in return. “Who knows what tomorrow is?” I ask.

  Several hands shoot up in the air and I point at Jessica. “Sunday,” she says, smiling.

  I chuckle. “It is Sunday, but it’s also a special Sunday. Can anyone tell me why?”

  “It’s Mother’s Day!” Ben shouts above everyone.

  “Hand up next time, Ben, but you’re right, it is Mother’s Day so we’re going to make something for all the special ladies that take care of you.”

  I explain to them that we’re going to make tissue paper tulips, cards, and whatever else they want before I send them on their way after a quick demonstration.

  Not long after that, a squeal catches my attention and I twirl around, trying to locate where the noise came from.

  My eyes widen when I see Izzie on the floor a couple of feet away from Clayton, crying as he scowls at her. I walk over and pick Izzie up, handing her to my mom who follows me over to the beanbags before bending down in front of Clayton.

  “Clayton, what happened?” I ask, using a soothing voice.

  “She started it,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands.

  “You’re a lot bigger than Izzie, bud, you should be protecting her, not pushing her around.”

  He looks up at me with tears brimming on the surface of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to.” They start to leak out and he throws his head in his hands, breaking my heart in the process.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs?” I ask him and he nods, walking over to the staircase leading up to my studio.

  My eyes scan the room and I see Izzie p
ainting while sitting on Mom’s knee and I signal that I’m going upstairs and to call Tristan for me. She gives me a thumbs-up before placing Izzie on the stool as she stands and heads into my office.

  I walk up the stairs after Clayton, my heart beating out of my chest when I get to the top and see him sitting on the bench in front of my table.

  His tears haven’t stopped and I can’t help myself, I walk over and pull him into my body. He stiffens at first, but when he relaxes, his arms reach out and grip onto my neck like his life is depending on it. I relax into the embrace fully, giving him the comfort that he’s desperately searching for.

  He sobs into my neck and I try soothing him with a few shushes, running my hand over his light brown hair and down his back.

  “It’s okay, Clayton. I’m sure that Izzie will forgive you.” He shakes his head furiously and I take it to mean that that isn’t why he’s crying. “Whatever is wrong, we’ll try and make it better.”

  “No… you can’t,” he sobs, gripping onto my neck tighter.

  I pull away from him slightly, looking into his distraught, bloodshot eyes. “I will do everything in my power to help you if you tell me what’s going on.”

  He sniffles, his lip wobbling as he looks at me. “I want my mom.” A strangled cry bubbles up his throat and I have to fight back my own tears in the fear of upsetting him more. “I just want my mommy back.”

  He lays his head against my chest and moves his hands from around my neck to wrap around his body, hugging himself like he’s trying to keep all of the pieces of his broken heart together.

  My arms cradle him, trying to make him feel safe, but I have no words for him—none that would make this any easier for him anyway.

  And then it hits me, this is all my fault. The Mother’s Day gifts speech; it was completely thoughtless of me. He hates me—Tristan is going to hate me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut but a noise draws me out of the moment and they flit back open, seeing that it’s Tristan with his back against the wall, his hand covering his mouth and tears in his eyes as he shakes his head slightly.

  Clayton must’ve heard the noise too because his head lifts slightly and he croaks out, “Daddy?” and that’s all it takes for Tristan to snap into “dad mode” and barrel forward, scooping him out of my arms and sitting on the floor with him as I stare at them in horror at what I’ve caused.

  I don’t wander far once I drop the kids off at art class with Harmony. After last night, I didn’t think things could become worse, but they did.

  Both Clay and I woke up to a bouncing, wide-awake Izzie, and that was only the start of the worst morning in the history of mornings. Clay was cranky after getting such little sleep, and he wouldn’t even look at Izzie. I knew what he was thinking; what he was feeling when he looked in her eyes, because I see her too. Natalia.

  When we were eating breakfast, Izzie started singing, which then led to another argument. I knew that Izzie couldn’t understand what was up with Clay, and there was no way that I could explain it to her.

  The whole morning was a write-off, and when we got into the car to go to art class, Clay only got worse. I knew that last night was playing on his mind, but what am I supposed to do when he won’t talk to me? I can’t help him when I don’t know what I’m helping him with.

  I could see that he was going to blow at any second and so could Izzie, which is why she didn’t want to let go of me when we arrived at the studio.

  I made a conscious effort to stay close by in case anything happened, and it was lucky that I did because I hadn’t been gone for more than twenty minutes when I got the call from Tilly asking me to come and pick Clay up.

  I was back at the studio within a couple of minutes, and searching for both Clay and Izzie.

  “Tilly?” I ask, stepping toward where she’s sitting with Izzie. “Pumpkin?”

  “Daddy,” she sobs, jumping off Tilly’s lap and barreling toward me.

  “What happened?” I bend down and wrap my arms around her before standing up, holding her tight as her tears wet my shirt.

  “Clay was being a big meanie.”

  I look at Tilly who points at the stairs. “He’s up there with Harmony.”

  I can see the worried look in her eyes and it has me on edge. I never should have left him here today, I should have taken him somewhere else and tried to talk him through his nightmare.

  I pull back from Izzie, kneeling down and swiping the tears from her face with my thumbs as I set her down on the wooden floor. “Why don’t you go and paint me a pretty picture for my office?”

  She hiccups and nods her head, putting on a brave face. “Okay, Daddy.”

  “I love you, pumpkin,” I whisper, pulling her back toward me for one last hug.

  “Love you,” she replies before she pulls back and looks up at Tilly.

  “I’ll help,” Tilly tells her, smiling as she holds her hand out for her to take.

  I take a deep breath as I watch them walk away, preparing for what I’m about to walk into before I make my way toward the stairs, hearing voices as I climb them.

  “I just want my mommy back.” I hear as I get to the stop of the stairs. The heartbroken words floor me and I stumble to a stop, resting my hand against the wall beside me and shaking my head in denial at what I heard.

  His words seem to echo around Harmony’s private studio; taunting me.

  My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath and my eyes zone in on where Harmony and Clay are sitting, Clay being held by Harmony with his arms wrapped around his middle.

  I fall against the wall I was holding onto and make a noise in the back of my throat, causing Harmony’s head to snap up and meet my gaze. Staring into her eyes, I can see how much she’s hurting for Clay and how much she wants to take his pain away; that’s all I want to do too.

  “Daddy?” Clay’s voice snaps me out of the daze that I’m in and I barrel forward, taking him out of Harmony’s embrace and holding him close to my chest as I sink down onto the floor.

  “Shhhh,” I whisper as the sobs rack his small body, rocking him to try and soothe him. “Daddy’s here. It’s okay.”

  The sounds of his cries echo around the room and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to stop my own tears from breaking free. A lump forms in my throat and I lose the battle of controlling myself as a silent tear tracks down my face and over the stubble covering my jaw.

  It kills me to see and hear him like this. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare to have a sobbing child in your arms and not be able to make it right; to give them the one thing that they want more than anything else in the world. I can’t bring Natalia back, he’ll never see his mother again, and that thought has a sob catching in my own throat.

  “I’m so sorry,” Harmony whispers. “It’s all my fault.”

  I shake my head as I open my eyes, trying to pull myself together enough to speak as I see her pale face and sad eyes staring at us.

  “It’s not.” I shake my head, my voice sounding nothing like my own.

  “No… really—” She cuts herself off as Clay looks up at her and then at me.

  “I want to go home,” he whispers, his voice hoarse from all the crying.

  “Okay, son. Let’s get you home.”

  I stand up and he wraps his arms around my neck, not letting go as he buries his face into my shoulder which only makes me hold him tighter. I’m afraid that if I let go it’ll cause us both to fall apart.

  “I…” I don’t know what to say.

  “I can bring Izzie home,” Harmony says, biting her lip. “Only if you want.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, unsure whether to leave Izzie here on her own.

  “Of course, I’m sure that she’d love to spend a couple of hours at the studio. Message me your address when you’re ready and I’ll bring her home.” I hesitate, hating that I’m relying on her to bring Izzie home. It’s not her job, she shouldn’t have to do that. “Tris.” She lays her hand on my arm, obviously being able to see that I�
�m torn. As soon as her skin touches mine, something fizzles in the air between us but we both ignore it, focusing on Clay. “Honestly, you go and spend some time with Clayton, I’ve got Izzie.”

  “I…” I look down at Clay. “Okay, thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome.” She smiles, but it’s not her usual smile, it’s a sad smile that clearly has pain lingering behind it.

  I turn around and walk down the stairs, seeing Izzie sitting at a table, painting. She starts to run toward me but slows down as Harmony intercepts her and whispers something in her ear that makes her face break out into a big grin.

  I smile at my beautiful daughter—Natalia’s double—when she looks back at me and waves frantically before following Harmony back to the table she was sitting at.

  “Dad?” Clay whispers.

  “I know, bud. Let’s go home and watch a movie.”

  He nods his head against my shoulder, his body relaxing and in turn letting me relax.

  My mom has been telling me that I need to seek help for Clay for months now, and Harmony said effectively the same thing at the beach the other day, but I was still undecided.

  After last night and today; my mind’s firmly made up.

  I need to get him help; if he won’t talk to me then maybe he’ll talk to someone he doesn’t know. Sometimes talking to a stranger is easier than talking to someone that you’re close with.

  A message pings through to my cellphone as I’m helping Izzie wrap her petal shaped tissue paper around the green painted wooden stick. I walk over to my office, digging through my purse to find it and pulling it out.

  I read the message from Tristan stating his address and telling me that it’s okay to bring Izzie back whenever. He must’ve settled Clayton down.

  Thinking about Clayton has my stomach in knots and I grip onto the edge of my desk, the smile dropping from my face. I’ve tried not to think about it all afternoon, but I feel so guilty; he wouldn’t be this way if I hadn’t had thought of this stupid Mother’s Day task.