Breaking Walls

by Tracie Puckett

  “It has to be good enough.”

  “It’s not!”

  “Well, then I’m out of answers for you.”

  “Tell—me—the—truth!”

  “Because!”

  He dug at the roots of his hair, pulling at the blond locks as they threaded between his fingers. His hands slowly descended down to cover his face, and I watched him for a minute, waiting for him to say something else. Another long minute passed, and just as I was giving up on him, he finally dropped his hands to his side, revealing an expressionless face.

  “I told her and not you,” he said, breathlessly, “because I may be your strength, Amanda Parker, but you are my weakness.”

  Chapter Ten

  What the heck was that supposed to mean?

  I was his weakness? How did that even make sense? It wasn’t an answer to my question, not even in the slightest.

  After a long minute of silence, Gabe just left, but he didn’t go back inside. He walked across the parking lot, got in his car, and drove away. I sat out there for another twenty minutes, hoping he’d change his mind and come back, but he never did. The sad part was that I just kept waiting. I wanted him to turn around, come back, and talk to me, fight with me, fight for me…fight for us. He didn’t even have to say a word if he didn’t want to. At that point, I would’ve settled for just sitting and stewing in silence… just as long as we were together.

  I was such a jerk. I’d made him one promise, only one. I promised that I wouldn’t clobber him, and then I turned around and did just that. I yelled at him, I knocked him down, I broke him. Just when I felt like I was getting closer to an answer, I made him retreat again. I’d taken all of my frustration with Carla and Bailey and I thrust it upon him. He didn’t deserve that. So why hadn’t I stopped myself while I still had chance?

  After a half-hour of waiting and no sight or word from Gabe, I pulled out my phone ready to send two messages. The first was meant for him. I’m sorry. I sent the second message to Mary Chris, apologizing for skipping the second act. I made up some lame excuse about not feeling well, but anyone who’d noticed both mine and Gabe’s absences from the audience had probably put two and two together.

  And then I went home, threw myself in bed, and stared at the ceiling. After an hour of sulking and wallowing in my self-pity, I rolled over and picked up my phone again. Mary Chris had written back with a simple feel better soon, but there was nothing there from Gabe. Scrolling through my short list of contacts, I found the number I was looking for and pressed a button on the screen to make the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I’m sorry I’m calling so late. Are you home yet?”

  “Yeah, we’ve been back for a while. What’s up?” Georgia asked. “Is everything okay?”

  It seemed like forever since I’d last seen her, and it’d only been a matter of hours.

  “How was your grandma’s party?”

  “Perfect, all thanks to you,” she said. “The cake was a hit.”

  “Good. Great, glad to hear it.”

  There was a long pause. The static on the other end hissed for only a few seconds before Georgia asked, “What’s going on, Mandy? Is everything okay?”

  “I wanted to ask you about someone at Evergreen.”

  “Okay?”

  “What do you know about the woman in Room 115?”

  She fell silent, thinking for a moment. I could almost picture her on the other end, visualizing the hallway, counting each door in her head until she landed on the correct room.

  “Not much. Her name’s…something, something Bennett,” she said, still thinking. “Leonora Bennett. Gran says she’s quiet, keeps to herself, and never has visitors except from her grown son.” Gabe, but I guess that was one detail Georgia didn’t know. But if his mother’s last name was Bennett and not Raddick, then there would be no reason for Georgia to ever make the connection. “She’s been there for years, I guess, from what everyone says. They call her a lifer.”

  “A lifer?”

  “She’s been there for so long that no one really knows who she is or how she got there,” she said. “It’s almost as if she’s been there her whole life, living under the medical care of the facility staff.”

  “Have you ever met her?”

  “Nope,” she said. “Saw her in the hallway once. Wheelchair bound, can’t walk. She’s not very old, mid-fifties at the most. Makes you wonder what in the world happened to have her admitted to a place like that at such a young age. I mean, where’s her family? Why couldn’t they take care of her?” Yeah, those were both excellent questions. “The only reason Gran’s at the home is because she requires constant care, and no one in the family could afford to quit their job to watch her full-time. She kept getting her meds mixed up—nearly died once, trying to take four of the same pill at once.”

  “Yikes,” I said, widening my stare.

  “Maybe the Bennett lady was the same way,” Georgia suggested. “Maybe her quality of life just wasn’t great and she needed that constant supervision. Why do you care so much, anyway?”

  “Oh, no reason,” I said. “I just saw her this afternoon, and I was wondering if you knew anything about her. And…Gabe was there with her.”

  “Gabe?” she asked. “Your Gabe?”

  “He’s not my Gabe,” I said, especially after tonight. “But yes. He was pleading with her to leave Evergreen for the evening and come to Sugar Creek. He wanted to take her to see Fletcher’s show. He just kept begging her to leave.”

  “Do you think he’s the grown son?”

  “Seeing as he called her Mom, I’m going to say yes.”

  “Okay, so if you’re so curious about his mom, then don’t you think that maybe you should ask him and not me?”

  “We’re not talking, remember?” Or . . . that was the story, anyway. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell anyone how badly I’d badgered him in the school parking lot. “Well, technically, yes. We’ve talked. But he doesn’t necessarily want to share.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, I can find out more, if you want me to? Grandma’s friend Stella’s a real busybody. I’m sure she can dig up some dirt for you.”

  I fought a smile.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said. Gabe wouldn’t appreciate learning that I had set my friends on a desperate search to unearth all the secrets he’d tried so hard to keep buried.

  And then I spent the next twenty minutes telling Georgia the truth, the whole, unfiltered truth about Bailey, Gabe, and the way the night had unfolded when I confronted him. I relived our conversation, the way he’d looked at me, the way I’d lashed out at him. I told her everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

  “Listen, can I offer a piece of advice?” She sounded as winded as I felt.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m your friend, and I care about you, so I want you to listen to me and really consider what I’m about to say.”

  “Okay?”

  “You have a right to feel betrayed, Mandy, you do. But you need to take a pause.”

  “A pause?”

  “You’ve been so consumed with the shock of the whole thing that you’re still not seeing it clearly,” she said. “You’re only seeing one side of things—your side. You’re only hearing what you want to hear and seeing what you want to see. Your judgment’s clouded. I love you, but if you want honesty, then here it is: I think you’re trying to be the victim. I know you said from the very beginning that you respected his wish to walk away, but I think you’ve been angry at him all along, and you were just trying to pretend you weren’t. It seems to me like you’ve been holding onto a lot of resentment and looking for a reason to lash out at him, and now you have one, so you’re taking advantage of it.”

  That wasn’t true. Not entirely. I wasn’t mad at him from the start. I was hurt, but I wasn’t mad. That was a feeling that developed itself back at Lexy’s Book Nook. But she was right about one thing. I was only seeing my side, listening when I wanted to listen and o
nly seeing what I wanted to see. I should’ve given him an opportunity to explain himself out there, but I just ripped him apart. I cut him off; I interrupted. I never gave him a chance.

  A tear slid down the side of my face.

  “Maybe there’s more that you’re not telling me,” she said. “And maybe I’m wrong. It’s just how I see it.” Again, another tear. “You need to take that pause, Mandy—not to figure out your feelings, but to consider the feelings of your sister and Gabe. Put yourself in their shoes. Why did he tell her? Why didn’t she tell you? These are two people who care about you, hon. There’s no way this was a malicious conspiracy to hurt you. They wouldn’t do that. Just…take a time out. Think about it.”

  “Yeah,” I said, swallowing hard, but the lump in my throat only continued to grow.

  “So…you mad at me now?”

  “Of course not,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow.

  “Mandy, do you love this guy?”

  I looked down to the puddle of tears soaking my pillow, only then realizing that I’d cried a lot more than the two tears I’d counted. My chest fell with a heavy breath.

  “I don’t know. I thought I did, but—”

  “I’ll tell you what my Grandma Ruby always tells me,” she said. “Love is a crazy roller coaster, and not everyone gets the chance to ride. Some hills take longer to climb, and that first big fall’s a lot faster than you’d like. But get in that seat and ride anyway, and hold on for dear life. Brace yourself, and take the lows with the highs, the loops with the curves. Each scary moment will only prepare you for the next. And if, by the time everything slows down and levels out, your heart is still racing, your stomach feels weak, and you suspect you’ll obliterate at any moment, then you know you’re doing it right. You’ll know you’re in love.” I crashed back down on my pillow and closed my eyes. “At the end of the day, just ask yourself one thing: is Gabe worth all of the sharp curves, upside down loops, and scary tunnels?”

  “Of course he is.”

  “Okay, so if you love him, don’t lose him,” she said. “Take that pause, consider his side, and try to understand it from another point of view. Even if you don’t like what you learn, at least you’ll have learned something.”

  I studied the reflection in my mirror. It was like I didn’t even know that girl anymore. Who was she? Where was she going? What did she really want?

  I didn’t know.

  The Mandy I knew would never hurt the people she loved. Heck, the Mandy I knew would’ve never gotten close to someone long enough to really love them. And yet there I stood, a completely broken version of the person I’d always prided myself on being — strong, composed, focused.

  The house was silent and still. I hadn’t heard a sound from either Dad or Bailey’s rooms since coming home, and at such a late hour of the night, it was safe to assume they were both sound asleep in their respective beds—Bailey, still angry with me; Dad, still avoiding me. It was nearing midnight when I slipped out of my bedroom, bundled in a heavy jacket, jeans, and comfortable shoes. I tiptoed down the hallway, out the front door, and to the car.

  I’d never left home after curfew. While I’d broken plenty of my own rules, I’d never broken any of Dad’s. He’d be furious to wake up and learn that I was backing out of the driveway, headed anywhere but where I was supposed to be.

  But Georgia was right. I needed to take a pause, and I couldn’t do that holed up in the house. I needed space and freedom. I needed clarity.

  So I drove into the darkness.

  Where to start?

  “With Dad,” I answered myself. There was something he wasn’t saying to me, something he was scared to face. Whatever it was, it was eating him alive. Was it just the fear that my anger would only grow stronger? Was he scared that I’d evoke another silent treatment once he finally told me the truth? “I could never do that again.”

  Besides the fact that it took too much effort, it wasn’t worth the pain it inflicted on him. Whatever it was that he was afraid to say—because I was convinced there was something—I would have to make sure he understood that there wouldn’t be any severe repercussions. Sure, I could easily get upset. I was allowed to get angry, especially if the situation called for it. But the silent treatment was out. It wasn’t fair, and it most certainly wasn’t an effective way to communicate with anyone.

  Which brought me to—

  “Bailey,” I whispered, dropping my head back against the headrest. I focused my stare on the dark highway, driving past the Sugar Creek Park gates. “Why would Gabe confide in her?”

  Well, he’d already told me why, it’s just that his answer didn’t make much sense, so I was left to try to figure it out on my own.

  If I didn’t have his answer to consider, it might’ve been as simple as considering that he’d only turned to Bailey because he really was drawn to her. But I couldn’t believe that no matter how hard I tried. Bailey had Jones, and she loved him. In the weirdest possible way, those two were perfect for one another, and she would never do anything to screw that up. And Gabe…he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t choose Bailey over me, and I knew that. So that was one school of thought I just couldn’t entertain.

  I may be your strength, Amanda Parker, but you are my weakness.

  I still didn’t get it. What did he mean? I was his weakness? I was his fault, the one thing that held him back and stood in his way? I mean, yeah. That made sense. I had stood in his way. I’d nearly killed his entire program and life’s ambition in one fell swoop. So it became clearer why he’d chosen not to talk to me—I was the reason everything had gotten so twisted and screwy. But why he’d chosen to talk to Bailey…I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand.

  The drive into Desden was a complete blur. The fact that I’d driven so far only registered when I found myself pulling into the parking garage at the University, completely unaware of most of my drive. Whether paralyzed by my thoughts or a serious case of highway hypnosis, I’d never really know. But at least I’d gotten there safely.

  I got out of the car and shut the door quietly. One would expect a dimly-lit parking structure on a college campus to have an overwhelming eeriness about it at twelve thirty a.m., but nothing about Desden University—not even dark, lurking shadows—caused me the slightest bit of discomfort. Maybe that’s why I’d driven out here in the first place. Maybe I just subconsciously wanted to be in the one place I felt at home…the last place I’d felt truly close to Gabe.

  I crossed the empty boulevard and landed on the student square, surprised by the students still wandering the campus this late into the night. There weren’t many, a few stragglers here and there, but it still surprised me. I’d really expected to be all alone on this walk around DU.

  Five minutes after arriving at the square, I found myself nearing the foot of a life-sized statue, one that I’d spent a few moments at on my first trip to the university. Gabe had wanted to snap a shot as he stood next to the man, so I took his phone, watched as he struck his pose, and captured the moment. I wondered why it was so important to him to do that, and I hated that I hadn’t taken the time to really ask. There were so many things I should’ve asked…

  “In memoriam: William C. Dunham,” I read the nameplate at the bottom of the statue. It didn’t give any other information, just a name. I turned back and looked at the nearby performing arts center, reading the bold metal letters fused across the top of the brick: The W.C. Dunham Performing Arts Center. I turned back to the statue. “So this is your building, eh?”

  I sat down on the small stoop at the foot of the statue and stared up at the frozen grin on the man’s face. I remembered the goofy smile Gabe wore as I snapped his picture next to the man, and all I could remember him saying was that he had to have the shot for Lashell. She’ll get a kick out of it!

  “Lashell Dunham,” I said, turning even further to stare at the statue. “You’re related to Lashell?”

  That seemed likely enough, which only meant that, whoever he was, this man w
as someone very important to both of my RI leaders. Once upon a time, Gabe had called Lashell a mother-figure of sorts. Anyone who meant anything to her would’ve meant the world to him. I turned back to look at the ground. “If you knew Gabe, then I’m probably not saying something you don’t already know, but the guy’s complicated. And that doesn’t help matters much, because I’m probably more complicated than him.”

  I looked down at my feet, watching as pebbles shifted beneath my shoes.

  “He’s a good person,” I said, more to myself than the memorial statue at my side. “He’d never hurt anyone, not intentionally. He’s so gentle and loving, and…I don’t know why he turned to Bailey and not me. But it wasn’t malicious, was it?”

  The wind picked up, whipping my hair all around my face.

  “He needed a friend, someone who wasn’t me.”

  And I knew what it meant to need a friend. There had been too many times in my life when I’d really needed one, and because I’d forced myself so far out from the world, I didn’t have anyone to turn to. And now, now that I had a close group of confidants, I knew what it meant to have a friend…to be a friend. There were so many times I’d relied on Georgia, and times that she’d relied on me. There were the few moments I’d turned to Fletcher for reassurance, and he’d turned to me for support and encouragement. But then there was Jones…

  “My sister’s boyfriend,” I said aloud, and then I lifted my head to look up at the night sky.

  Jones and I had grown very close. As much as Georgia and Fletcher meant to me, Jones was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend. Even before I’d ever really opened up to the idea of having friends, he was always there. In his own silly ways, Jones was always trying to help me, make me smile, ensure my happiness. He was the one I talked to, the one I turned to when I truly needed extra love and support. He was my best friend. I needed him.

  “Just like Gabe needed Bailey,” I said, dropping my head again. “Jones and I talk about things that my sister has no idea we talk about. And…how is that any different than what she and Gabe are doing?” I stared harder at the dark pavement. “It’s not. It’s not different at all.”