“You can depend on us for whatever you want to. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I know, Dad. I just need to do this. I’ll always have you and Mom, but I need to do something on my own for once. I’ve always had someone to depend on and I finally realized that I need to stand on my own two feet,”
His hands work a lazy rhythm across my back before he leans down to place a gentle kiss across my temple. “Macy, you’re a stronger woman than you give yourself credit for. You’ve made it through one of the hardest things imaginable and you’ve thrived. Sure, you slip from time to time, but that’s expected. You’re not a robot and I need to realize that you’ll heal in your own way. I’ll take you home, but you have to promise me something first.”
“Anything!” I promise, lifting my face so I can look up at him. His hazel eyes stare down at me and he scrunches his eyebrows before continuing.
“If for a single moment, you think you can’t take it…do you promise that you’ll call either Theresa or me?” he asks. The look on his face says that this isn’t up for discussion.
“I promise!” I say as I grab his hand. My pinky wraps around his and I flash him a small smile, “If I need anything I promise I’ll ask for help.”
∞∞∞
So, I’ve sucessfully convinced Dad to take me home with a promise to call if I need anything. Like that’s ever going to happen. He and Mom have worried over me too much as it is. I’m not ready to come back yet, but it can’t be put off any longer.
"What's the first thing you want to do when you get home?" Denny asks from the backseat, momentarily taking my mind off the ride.
"Eat a carton of ice cream and take a real shower. I think I deserve it...." I reply with a sigh.
It's not like Dad didn’t feed me. But, nothing beats a carton of rocky road or the twelve pulse shower head that I had installed when we moved in. What I'm ready for is to crawl in my own bed and lock everyone out of my room. I appreciate all their help, but I really need some time to myself before I go crazy.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay with me for a few more days?" Dad asks from the driver's seat, his eyes darting to me before returning to concentrate on the road.
I shake my head, shuddering at the thought of it. For the last weeks, the man hasn't left my side. I basically had to beg for permission to use the bathroom by myself. The idea of spending even one more night at his house gives me a headache. I'll just be happy when everything goes back to normal and the only contact I have with my parents are the weekly 'How are you doing?' phone calls.
"She will be fine with me, Mr. Brooks," Denny cuts in from the backseat, saving me from having to let Dad down.
"If you need anything, do you promise to call?" Dad asks, his gaze burning into the side of my head.
"I promise!" I whine, ready for this ride to be over with. I’m a dirty fucking liar, but he doesn’t need to know that….
Both Dad and Denny chuckle at me before picking up a conversation on some video game that they've both been playing. It's weird, but Denny seems to have grown closer to Dad than I've ever seen before. It's not that he's ever disliked him, but Denny had been my friend for years when my parents split. Obviously, Mom adopted Denny as her own the first day that he tagged along with me from school. But, even in the beginning, he'd never given Dad that much thought. It appears that tragedy brought them together and it makes me happy to know that Denny has a man to look up to.
You see, Denny grew up in a loving home, just like mine had started out. His parents were close with mine as they had to see each other a lot since Denny and I were practically attached at the hip. But, one day when Denny was about seventeen, they turned on him. I think it's because they finally figured out that their perfect, honor roll son wasn't exactly like they imagined he was.
The day he opened to them about his sexuality, they turned their backs on him. It wasn't as if Denny were any different than he was the day before, but their perception was skewed. Denny being pansexual wasn't the worst thing he could have told them. But, since that day I don't think they've had a civil conversation with him and I think that's why he decided to travel the world. I love it about him, he doesn’t let gender set boundaries on the people he loves. Even if he loves too easily….
"Earth to Macy!" Denny yells, his hand shaking my shoulder.
I look up from my lap to see the similar scenery, my heart seizing in my chest. The tires travel over the gravel drive that leads to my quaint one-story home. The bright red front door that once held so much warmth, makes me fill with dread. Am I ready for this? Will, I ever be ready? There are so many memories that haunt the walls of this house and I don't know how I'll keep my sanity. Henry's things will be surrounding me and I don't need anyone breathing down my throat while I have a meltdown.
It feels as though my stomach’s in my throat and I can’t make it go away. Everything seems to be just as it was the last time I was here, but it’s completely different at the same time. My potted plants look like they need a flood to come back to life, their bold-colored pots too cheerful for my gloomy outlook on life. I remember when Henry and I painted them. It was a happy day full of laughter and ruined clothes.
"Welcome home, Buttercup!" Dad announces when he shifts the car into park.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come. I have to hold myself together. They'll never let me stay here if they see me freak out. After a moment to myself, I reach across my body and clumsily open the door with my left hand. It will take some getting used to, but so far, I've acclimated to having just the one hand nicely.
"Can I have a minute alone?" I ask them as I pull my house keys from my purse.
Dad and Denny share a look before slowly nodding. I sigh in relief before stepping out of the car, the humid heat of the southern spring hitting me in my face. My feet crunch along the gravel before I reach the first step of my front porch. The wooden boards creak underneath my feet, making me think of how many times I asked Henry to fix the steps before they caved in. Of course, he never did, so now I'm going to have to convince someone else to do it.
My hand reaches out, the keys jingling in my fingers as I unlock the door, my body shaking so hard that my teeth nearly clack together. If I'm going to do this, I need to summon all the courage I can. I successfully open the door and kick it closed behind me. My eyes dart across the room, noticing the similarities and changes of the room. It looks like Denny and Dad put away quite a few of Henry's things.
Denny also wasn't kidding when he said that I had a lot more of colorful decor. Bold tapestries and provocative sculptures are scattered across the living room. There's even a bold, purple knitted quilt laid across the back of my leather couch. I appreciate the changes. It almost makes it feel as though I'm in a different home. The changes make it easier.
I take a deep breath and turn to drop my keys in the bowl by the front door and I squeeze my eyes shut. The scent that could once bring me to my knees does and I collapse onto the floor, my back pressed against the door.
I snatch Henry's jacket from the table holding my keys and bury my face into the material as fat, painful tears flow down my face. A broken sob passes my lips before I close my eyes and just breathe in the scent of the one thing I want most in this world. The one thing, the one person, that will never be coming back.
Things I didn’t notice before are exactly as we left them that day. His shoes still sit by the door, waiting to be slipped on so he could take Mr. Norman, our next-door neighbor’s dog, for a walk. Henry always liked walking that damn dog since its owner was too old to exercise him. Plus, Henry missed having his own dog.
I climb to my feet and walk into the kitchen. The fridge is still covered with magazine clippings which we stuck on with magnets. They’re of all the places we wanted to travel to. Scotland. Ireland. Spain. India. Japan. My fingers trace over the little scribbles along the bottom of the pictures. Henry would always write down a special occasion we would make ea
ch trip for. Honeymoon. First wedding anniversary. Fifth. Tenth. God, he planned trips up to our twentieth anniversary.
Infuriated with the unfairness of everything, I rip down the clippings and shred them into tiny pieces. I stuff the scraps into the trash can and let out a muffled scream. I don’t want any more reminders of what should have been.
“Macy?” Denny whispers from behind me. I whip around to face him, my blood boiling in my veins. He reaches forward to wipe the tears I didn’t know I shed from my face.
“I’m fine!” I snap, brushing past him. My feet carry me to my bedroom and I slam the door behind me. Henry’s scent envelops me, causing me to drop to my knees against the door. I cover my face with my hand, muffling a strangled cry that’s trying to escape my lips.
“Why?” I whisper to the room, “Why did you leave me!?”
I raise to my feet and collapse onto the bed. I pull my phone from my jacket, ready to call Mom to come and get me. I can’t take this. I’m not strong enough for this! My eyes water as I look down at the phone to see Henry’s face smiling up at me.
We had taken this picture the night before the crash. In the photo, we’re lying in bed, my multitude of pillows surrounding us. So much that we’re nearly buried beneath them. My face is pressed into his neck, savoring his touch. His brilliant smile is the focus of the picture. God, I fucking miss his smile. I miss everything about him! I want him back. Yet, I realize, for once I’m smiling when I think of our happy memories.
“Macy.” Dad calls from the other side of the door. “I’m heading home. Are you going to be alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, not quite sure if I’m being honest.
“If you need me just call. Even if it’s just to talk,” he calls to me from behind the closed door.
“Be safe!” I call to him.
“Will do! If you need anything call me, I mean it!” he says before leaving me.
I lay on the bed for a while before growing the courage to leave my room. I change clothes before leaving though, trading out my dress for one of Henry’s long sleeping shirts. His scent flows into my nostrils, causing tears to prickle at my eyes. I pull my phone back out to stare at the picture of Henry and me. My finger runs over his face and words start falling from my lips.
“God, I miss you so much. Did you know what I had planned for the day of graduation? I was going to propose to you. I know it’s weird, huh?” I whisper, hot tears burning in my eyes as I speak to his picture.
“Of course, you would have said yes. I planned for us to marry the next day. You would have finally been mine, forever. But, you’ve always been mine, haven’t you? There’s been no one other than you in my life. You were my only boyfriend. God, I was your only girlfriend. I guess that happens when you start dating at fourteen, huh?
“I don’t know how to do all of this without you. Whenever I think of my life…it just doesn’t feel right. You should be here. Of all people in the world, God decided to take you. Why you? Why couldn’t it have been me? You would have survived without me.” I whimper, the tears now flowing freely down my face.
“You always knew how to make everything work. So how do I make this work? I’ve never been alone. God, I’m so alone now. I know I have Mom, Dad and Denny, but it’s not the same. They’re not you. You weren’t supposed to leave me! We were going to be married. Go on tons of fabulous trips. You would have gotten a job as an art teacher and I was going to open my own practice. That was our plan, remember?
“We were going to get a puppy. I remember you telling me that. It was going to be my graduation gift, but I knew you secretly wanted it for yourself, but we’d never gotten one because of our crazy school schedules. In a few years, once we were settled in life…we were going to start a family. Two of each, remember? You wanted a big family and so did I. But now, I don’t know what I want. Do I want to live another day? I don’t fucking know!”
I drop the phone and cover my face, sobs shaking my body. Tears roll down my face, leaving behind a scalding hot trail.
“I don’t want to live without you, Henry!” I scream, my voice breaking as the words leave my mouth. My body folds on itself and I lay with my arm wrapped around my knees, my eyes staring blindly at the wall before me.
“I can’t give up though.” I whimper, “You wouldn’t want that. I should be strong. But if being strong means forgetting you…I can’t do it. You’ll always live in my heart. Always.”
Chapter Six
Macy, you need to come out of there!" Denny calls from the other side of the door.
It's not like it's the first time he's done it. The last five hours have been nothing other than a repeat of him tapping on the door and my refusal to open it. I've been locked inside my room for nearly two days now, but Denny left me alone until now. Now, he's being an incessant pest that I really feel like knocking over the head with a tire iron.
"Leave me alone...." I groan, flopping on my stomach and burying my face in Henry's pillow.
I should commend Denny on his patience with me barricading myself in my room for the last few days, but it doesn't mean that I have any interest of leaving. When I'm in here, I can pretend that Henry's just away. I don't have to look at their faces and realize that all my hopes and dreams have been shattered. Can't they just allow me to live in the fantasy world I've built for just a bit longer?
"If you don't open this door in twenty seconds, I'm calling your parents!" Denny threatens, the sound of numbers being dialed on his phone audible through the door.
"Fuck!" I grumble, launching myself off the bed and unlocking the door a moment before his finger glances over the call button.
If looks could kill, Denny would be a corpse right now. I can't remember ever looking at him the way I am now, but I'm beyond pissed with the smug man before me. I don't need him bringing my parents into this. If they even hear a peep about me shutting myself in my room, they'll hover over me until I'm old enough to file for social security.
"What do you want?" I growl, only a second away from slamming the door in his face.
Instead of answering me, Denny pushes me back and waltzes into my room like he owns the place. I can nearly feel the steam streaming from my ears, but I bite my tongue as I await his answer. He's always been a fan of the dramatics and I can see that Henry's death didn't change that.
His mocha colored eyes travel over my room, scanning over the piles of discarded clothes in the corner, my mountain of snotty tissues, and the tangled sheets atop my bed. I know that in his mind, he's judging me right now, but that's the last thing I need. The tears that I've been successfully holding back for the last few hours threaten to spill down my cheeks and I try to bite them back. I'm so tired of crying.
"Macy, we need to get you out of this house," Denny says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.
"No!" I snap, my eyes staring him directly in the face.
His features falter for a moment, his once lively eyes filled with pain before he regains his composure. He takes me by surprise when he walks to me and caresses my face between his hands. The soft pads of his fingertips trace over the salty tracks that my tears have left behind. I nervously bite my lip, dropping my eyes to stare at his chest.
"Yes, we're going out. Go take a shower. While you're doing that I'll take care of the mess in here...." he says, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
I bite back a retort and simply spin on my heels, walking to the bathroom. I shed my clothes quickly and reach inside the shower to turn the water on. The room fills with steam quickly as I stare in the mirror at my reflection. It's strange to say, but I don't recognize myself anymore.
My once long, nearly black hair barely brushes against my shoulders. From the sickly shade of my skin, it's obvious that I haven't seen the sun in months. The most noticeable difference is my right arm. What's left of the limb has healed nicely, but there's not enough left for it to even be of any use to me. Angry scars travel up the remaining limb, nearly to
my collarbone before they turn into scattered pink scars from the glass that cut me across the chest.
I close my eyes and turn from my reflection, hissing at the sweet sting of the hot water cascading along my body from the shower-head above me. My body relaxes for the first time in days as I grab a bottle of my eucalyptus and spearmint body wash, awkwardly lathering down with the one hand. It feels as though it takes me hours to wash my hair and body, but I've needed it.
Shaving my legs, well...that's another story. After nicking myself for the umpteenth time, I decide that a pair of jeans will have to do for wherever Denny decides to take me. I also make a mental note to pick up some hair removal cream from the store or to just make an appointment to get my legs waxed.
"Where are we going?" I ask Denny as I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped snugly around my body.
"There's a new bar that opened up down the street. I've been there a few times and I think you'll like it there. Also, I might be working there starting next week, so you might as well get used to the atmosphere because I plan on dragging you with me a lot," Denny tells me as he grabs the towel wrapped around my head and begins drying my hair.
"Holy shit, you have a job?" I scoff as my eyes close, enjoying the sensation of his fingers rubbing my scalp.
"I know, it's a miracle. I've told them a lot about you and they wanted to meet before I started working. It doesn't bother me though, I can introduce you to the co-workers and manager without having to worry about work. Kind of a win-win if you ask me!" he chuckles before tossing the towel into the now empty dirty clothes bin.
"Do you think that they'll like me?" I ask, my hand running up and down my half arm subconsciously.
"Macy, if they don't like you then they can shove their opinions up their own asses!" he replies without pause, "I don't have to work for them. Especially if they don't like my number one girl."
I smile to myself as he kisses the top of my head. Maybe tonight won't be so bad. It's only a matter of time before I find out.
The Dying Fate (The Umbra Chronicles Book 1) Page 6