by Brea Viragh
“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry I was late. I’ll take it from here. You go home and get some rest.”
He reached out to grab his daughter and Odessa turned away with a swiftness that belied her age. “You hush.” A rebuke. “You’re not paying attention. I know what you’re thinking and you cut it out.”
“How can you know what I’m thinking?” Brock shrugged, his voice rising on a half laugh. “Did you somehow develop a psychic sense in your assisted living facility?”
Odessa refused to back down. “There’s always been a hint of something extra in our family. Do you hear me? For some reason you’ve ignored the sight, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten involved with that woman.”
“Nasira?”
“You know who I mean, so stop being thickskulled.”
Brock felt an odd pleasure at her affectionate slur. Odessa had often joked with him about his hard head, saying it made him great on the football field but lousy when it came to common sense. He knew there was a good mile wide stubborn streak running through their veins, something Odessa was no stranger to.
It was always reassuring to find out: some things, despite the years and distance between them, did not change.
“Everything in time and everything in its place, Brock. How many times have I told you?” Odessa asked.
“Too many to count.” He smiled affectionately.
“You were meant to have this baby. Just like you were meant to come home when you did.” Odessa moved slowly to the table and sat down at the nearest chair. It creaked a little when she shifted her weight to take the strain off of her bones.
“I’m glad to hear you say it. I wouldn’t want to be the proverbial black sheep of this family.” Although he chuckled at his joke, his grandmother did not. “You’re not laughing.”
“No, I’m not laughing.”
They were strays and wanderers, the lot of them, none of them filling the conventional roles. After their parents died in a car accident, the three brothers were like balloons released from a tether, they floating aimlessly in different directions trying to find their way back. The oldest turned to the lord, and the youngest drugs.
Brock found Nasira. Then he left her.
“You’ll go with her when she leaves,” Odessa put in cryptically, staring down at Callie. “I’ve seen it, and I don’t mind staying behind. One of the nurses from the home is bringing my things over in the morning. I’ll find someone to stay with me until you get back. Between me and whoever it is coming to help, we have this covered. You won’t need to worry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I suggest you go pack your bags, because she’ll be getting an early start. Quite unwillingly, of course.” Odessa chuckled and shook her head. “She didn’t think she’d be going this soon. Everything in due time. Everything in its place.”
Brock reached for his cell. “I’m going to call your nurse. You obviously don’t feel well. It’s my fault. You’ve been here too long and expended too much energy. I won’t let it happen again”
One slash of her eyes and Brock stilled his movement. “You put the phone down and listen to an old woman.”
“You aren’t old,” he responded automatically.
She waved him away. “There’s a change coming, one that has nothing to do with the weather. I’ve felt it in my knees, my back, and here.” She pounded a hand on her chest. “You’re needed, and maybe your part won’t be the largest, or the flashiest, but it’s important. The others won’t be able to make it without you. The safest place for Callie is here with me. Your place is with your woman. Now, I don’t want you to worry about a thing. I’ve got the home base covered. It’s no problem taking care of this little angel.”
Brock wondered where Odessa was going with this. It would do no good to argue with her. Once she got on a roll it was best to see it through to the end and then form a rebuttal. Then again, she had the unique ability to shrewdly navigate through whatever opposition one opposed and offer unlikely and rational arguments to support her point of view. In the end it really did no good to fight.
“I’ll always say it, because it’s true,” Odessa said fiercely. Callie stirred in her arms before burrowing closer, one tiny hand fisted around the shirt’s collar. Afterwards, Odessa kept her voice lowered. “This old girl has more fight in her than you know. If it were up to me I would be up there on the battle front in an instant. Instead these legs refuse to cooperate and my talents are better put to use here.”
He disliked the use of the word battle in any circumstances. Standing in the quiet kitchen with the dark woods pressing close he felt a chill course through him. “You’re scaring and confusing me at the same time, Nan, and I don’t like it. Tell me what you’re talking about. What battle? Where am I going?”
“I know this is probably a damper on your good night.” She cuddled the child to her chest. “But it needs to be said and time is short.” Her smile was open, unaffected even with the splash of sadness coloring her gaze.
Brock found he had a difficult time forming one in return. “What do you want me to do? Grab a suitcase and leave you here with my kid for who knows how long? Nasira said nothing about going out of town and would rather pull out her own teeth than have me along. None of it makes sense!” His hands moved to his hair and tugged, a painful way to show his frustration.
Odessa blew a raspberry. “It’s not supposed to make sense. It is what it is.”
“It is what it is.” Brock repeated dully. “Sure.”
“You are going to get a bag ready and go with your girl whether you like it or not. Whether she likes it or not, too.” Another great heaving chuckle and Brock could almost see the dust rise from her withered lungs. “It’s going to be a learning curve for both of you. Hopefully you can overcome. Seems you made a good bit of progress tonight.”
“I don’t like when you say those things.”
“Then you better stop worrying about what I think and start doing what you have to do. There are things coming and Nasira is going to need your assistance.”
“You expect me to leave my daughter alone?” Brock asked again, to make sure he understood.
“She won’t be alone.” Odessa pursed her lips. “She’ll be with me. I think I have the experience to take care of a toddler, Brock.”
He blushed. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know you didn’t, but most parents are the same. No one can take care of their babies the way they can.”
“I don’t like the whole thing. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m confused.”
“You’ll see in the morning.” There was nothing insolent in Odessa’s voice. She leaned back and studied him. “You’re like my daughter. I see so much of her in you.”
It was the sadness that did him in. Brock considered her words with a shake of his head. “You’ve always said.” He sighed again for good measure. “I’m supposed to pack a suitcase with a smile on my face? Hope you’ll be okay here with my only daughter? In case you didn’t know, I still have a lot of unpacking to do.”
“We will be fine.” Odessa had a laugh like a plucked guitar string, long and deep and echoing before fading away. “You’re the one who’s going to need someone to watch his back. You need to stop worrying and trust me.”
“Oh yeah, like that’s easy.”
Her eyes grew wicked. “I never thought you were one to back down from a little adventure. I mean me, I would love to be able to travel and see new things. Especially with a handsome woman at my side and a loving house waiting for me when I get back…”
He cut her off. “Enough, Odie. I get it. Trust me, I get it. You made your point.”
Callie drew a deep breath then, stretching on a slight groan. Brock felt his heart hitch when she reached her arms above her head. Two teeth gleamed from between her lips.
“Here, let me take her.”
Odessa handed the baby over without complaint and he happily accept
ed her weight. Callie fussed at the transfer, little mewling sounds echoing through the kitchen.
She was characteristically blunt as she stood. “Get your time in, boy. You better be ready before the sun rises in the morning. You are going with Nasira. Or I will unleash whatever hell I have left on you.”
“What a terrible thing to say,” he exclaimed.
“Terrible and true. I’ve got a feeling.” Odessa rubbed at the spot below her collar bone. A pained expression flashed across her face. “I’m telling you this. It’s important. You better be at her place before the sun rises. Like I said, she’s getting an early start.”
She let her last words hang in the air between them, a terrible cloud heavy on his shoulder. He tried to process the enormity of what he would have to do between then and now.
He cradled Callie against his chest and listened to the steady beating of her heart. Since the day of her birth the two had never been part for longer than a day, two at the very most. How was he supposed to leave her alone for an indeterminable amount of time? His grandmother seemed to think he would and should be okay with the separation.
In truth, it scared him.
“Then I guess I better enjoy this.” Tears clogged his voice before he was aware of their formation.
Odessa patted his arm. “You make it sound like you won’t be returning. We’ll see each other again, Brock. Now you get some sleep. I’ve got some last-minute things to do and I’ll have the nurse drive me here in the morning.”
“You sure have some sway over those people at the home.”
“You have no idea.” Turning her leathery face up for the perfunctory kiss, Odessa said her goodbyes and walked herself to the front door.
Brock stood alone in the kitchen with the sleeping toddler in his arms. They’d finally made it back where they belonged only to be told to leave again. None of it seemed right or fair, he mused with more than his share of confusion.
Callie murmured in her sleep and Brock squeezed her tight. If he let it, the prospect of leaving her would drain the color from his face and leave it stiff, a permanent frown. A wave of pain washed over him and he wondered if it was the shock of what had already happened or the prospect of what was to come.
He’d built their lives from the ground up so carefully. He could only hope the foundation would not crumble to dust in his absence.
CHAPTER 6
Nasira found it difficult to sleep. She kept catching a hint of whatever damnable scent Brock had been wearing. Something deep and musky, entirely him. It brought as much agitation as it did desire. None of which was conducive to rest.
She cursed him in her head. Cursed herself for letting it bother her. Gave the pillow a good punching, strangling the feathers. When the action did nothing to calm her unease, she settled for the final sips of wine and a melatonin chaser and reminded herself. It was okay to occasionally indulge in a thought if she didn’t overdo it.
The worst was behind her. Behind them, and had been for many years. Those first words after such a long absence were the stuff of nightmares. Now she could easily say it was in the rearview mirror. They’d seen each other and aired everything she’d wanted to say. At least, most of the things she’d wanted to say.
There were some words she never wanted Brock to hear.
The success of their first meeting made her crazy, and for the first time in those seven years, Nasira let herself remember the whole of their relationship, beyond her pain. She remembered how much she’d loved him, more than she’d thought possible for a human being outside of her own family.
They were in high school together, she the quiet nerd and him the outgoing football star. She saw him for the compelling teen he was, with flocks of young girls drawn to his side. He was unattainable. At first. She wondered how someone like Brock would be interested in someone like her.
She offered to tutor him in geology when the opportunity arose, although she now realized there had been more at play in their coming together than she first expected. Time passed and they grew closer. It had been easy to fall for him. Even easier to give her innocence to him with the absolute freedom that comes with first love.
Stupid, blinding love she’d never been able to give or feel again when he left.
He had said the words she’d desperately wanted to hear and told her that he was in love with her, too. She knew his feelings were sincere. The words became more than petty utterances made in a chance to cross home base. She took them to heart when he said he would love her forever and counted on it when they neared graduation.
Their future spread before them and in her eyes, she saw how it was supposed to be. They would stay in Madison, him going on to take over his uncle’s construction business while she went about setting up the veterinary clinic she’d planned for.
It was surprising when Brock chose to move out of state for college. Surprising and devastating.
He’d been moody the week before he dropped the bombshell, and she put it down to his distraction with receiving those last-minute college decisions, the stress of determining which local school would be his top choice.
It was her habit to have family dinner at his house on Thursday nights. Nasira adored those times to be part of something bigger than herself, the chance to experience a family outside of her mother/daughter team.
“I have to talk to you.” He’d pulled her aside before she even reached the front door.
“Okay.” She followed him out without hesitation. Leaning in for the perfunctory kiss, she felt his lips press against hers. A rightness clicked into place. A treasured feeling, one she prized above any other, the one starting as a slow burn in her gut and wound through every fiber of her being.
Even at eighteen, Brock’s hands were strong and steady. The hands of a man. They fell on her waist and drew her closer. Turning their bodies slightly toward the right, he brought them out of his family’s sight.
Nasira angled her head until his mouth fell on her cheek. “Brock, people are going to see.”
“I don’t care. At this point I feel like I could fly!” He trailed kisses along the planes of her face, down to her clavicle and toward the whirl of her ear until she squealed with delight.
“All from seeing me. I knew you loved me!”
He chuckled. “I do, you know it. God, I have such great news.”
She felt like jumping for joy, infected by his cheer. “So, tell me!”
“I don’t want you to freak out.” He grabbed her hands. “I got into UCLA!”
It took her several seconds to process his words. The realization hit her with the shock of a bucket of ice water. “What did you say?” She stared at him.
“California! Can you believe it? It’s adventure. The biggest adventure of my life.”
At once the joy she felt earlier disappeared, replaced by a sort of dread. It landed heavily in the pit of her stomach. “Are you kidding me?”
Brock did not recognize her budding fury. He sighed, staring up at the sky as though it held the possibilities he dreamed about. “I knew it was a long shot when I applied. I mean, people like me don’t get these opportunities every day. Now I can start someplace new, someplace different! I can leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes! Get out of Indiana. You can come, too, if you want.”
She moved away from him and shivered as a cloud passed over the sun. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Though he still smiled, his eyes dropped. “I thought you would be happy for me.”
“I am happy for you.” Wasn’t she? At once she couldn’t tell anymore. There was pride for what he managed to accomplish, of course. But there was also anger and fear. “I’m just not leaving.”
“You can’t mean that, Nasira. We talked about this. About how we want to get out of this godforsaken place and never look back. This is a chance.”
“You talked about it. I didn’t.”
Swearing lightly, Brock stomped away, his hands raised to muss his hair. He kept it sh
orter and curling wildly around the planes of his face. He paced back and forth with movement barely contained. “You’re telling me this now?” he asked.
Nasira made the decision on the spot, her logic tainted by pure, raw emotion. “I’ll tell you what.” She kept her voice calm and rigid, the voice of a person used to belting out commands and having others follow. “You go to California and enjoy yourself. I’m staying here and going on with my life.”
The rush of realization stilled him. “Don’t do this. We don’t have to end things because of something like this.”
“So you’ll stay?”
“No.” Brock squared his shoulders. “I accepted the offer. I’ll be moving in the fall.”
“That’s perfect. Perfect,” she responded. “You’ll go. And I’ll stay here.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Please, Brock, don’t drag this out more than it needs to be. Things have been going downhill for a long time and this is the perfect opportunity for a clean split. In fact, I think it’s the perfect opportunity. This came at a good time.”
“Again, news to me.”
“When something is over, it’s over. Time to move on and forget about it. That’s what life is about, right?”
He moved closer and placed his hands on either side of her arms. “I have no idea where any of this is coming from and I don’t like it.”
“It’s done, Brock. I stay and you go,” she told him carelessly. “It’s simple. Because I’m not going anywhere. But don’t worry. Things will work out for you, probably better than if you stayed here with me. It’s a chance for both of us to start fresh.”
Nasira refused to remember the rest of their conversation. There had been hot burning rage on his part and bullshit excuses on hers. She realized how she tried to manipulate him into staying by using their relationship as a playing card and guilt to fill in the cracks. He’d wanted to leave, something she understood deep down, and she’d issued the ultimatum believing fully he would choose to stay for her.