Sacrifice

by Adriana Locke

  I spot my ring and start to reach for it when I see an envelope. My breath hitches in my throat when I see “To Jules” written in Gage’s handwriting on the front.

  A cold chill tears through me. My mouth hanging open, a shiver racing down my spine, I pull the envelope out of box and run my finger along the writing. A single tear lazily drops down my cheek.

  The envelope is dry from sitting inside the box for God knows how long. Carefully, I turn it over and open the unsealed back. A single piece of paper is folded inside. I remove it, my heart pounding, and unfold it slowly.

  Dear Jules,

  I ran by here today to drop off a few things and I decided to jot down a note to you. I’ve been thinking about my ma a lot. Probably because baseball season is starting and she would’ve been all over the Red Sox this year. They’re gonna be good, I think. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about something she said to me once. She said that when my dad left her when she was pregnant with Crew, the worst part about it was not knowing what to do. He had taken care of everything and then just took off and she had no idea how to even deal. It made me think—if something happened to me, would you know what to do? I try to protect you from everything and make your life as easy as I can. And I hope to hell you never have to live without me, but things happen, you know? What won’t happen is me leaving you willingly. You’re my world.

  But if something does happen, I want you to remember a few things. First of all, always remember I love you. Always. And if we have children, remind them that I love them, too. I haven’t met them yet, but I can imagine seeing a little me and you. Also, make sure they’re Sox fans.

  Don’t be scared. I know that’s easier said than done, but don’t be. You are so much stronger than you even know. Your strength inspires me every day. You’ll figure things out.

  There’s a picture in here of Crew and I. We’re at the beach and the bastard is giving me those stupid bunny ears. That picture was taken one morning when we decided to go swimming at the beach with Will and another kid whose name I don’t remember. Later that day, Crew and I bought lunch. He wanted another ice cream and I wouldn’t give him the money for it because we needed it to get home. He got really mad at me and wouldn’t speak to me all day. Typical, I know.

  Anyway, I’m out swimming in the ocean with Will and the other kid when I start to get pulled under and out. I remember seeing the light through the water above me, my chest burning, needing oxygen. I’d come up but not even long enough to yell for help. I was just being tossed around like a ball. Finally, I come up long enough to see Will and the other guy, but they’re standing on the beach. They’re pointing towards me but neither are coming my way. And I know I’m done. My arms and legs are getting tired, my head feels heavy, my chest is burning. I’m choking on the saltwater. And then I feel something grab my leg. I remember thinking that at least death by shark will be faster than drowning. And then an arm wraps around my waist and pulls me up. I get to the top of the water and my little brother is shaking me, telling me to ‘man up’ of all things.

  He helps me back to shore and I puke up a gallon of seawater, but I’m okay. Crew probably saved my life that day.

  I’m telling this to you for a reason, babe. I know you and Crew don’t always see eye-to-eye and I know you don’t think much of him sometimes. I know he’s hurt you and he can be an unpredictable prick. But I also know this—he’s never let me down when I’ve needed him. He’ll be there for you. He has some growing up to do, I know, but he’ll do what needs to be done. If there’s anyone in the world I trust to take care of you, it’s my brother.

  Have a happy life. I want you to enjoy things and smile and laugh. I don’t want you to try to do everything on your own, like I know you try to do. I don’t want you to be miserable or hold back and feel guilty for living. I want you to promise me that you’ll live with no regrets. That you’ll do what you have to do to have a good life. Don’t feel bad for any decisions or choices you have to make. I know your heart and your soul. I’ll support you 100% (unless you make our theoretical children Yankee’s fans).

  I have to get back to work. I hope I’ve just wasted twenty minutes writing this and I show it to you some day when we’re eighty and we laugh at how dumb I am. I’m making cheesecake tonight. I hope you like it.

  Love,

  Gage

  I press the paper to my chest and fix my gaze on the wall of boxes in front of me. It feels like he’s in the room with me and I don’t want to lose the moment. I want to hold on to this feeling of being safe and loved, to the memories, for as long as possible.

  I hear the paper crackle in my hands and I pull it away from my body, realizing that I’ve been squeezing it too hard. I read it again, hearing his voice inside my head, and I know what I have to do.

  JULIA

  “Don’t feel bad for any choices or decisions you have to make.”

  My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my jeans. An old country song is playing through the speakers as I pass the lines of yard equipment on the floor of the shop. A long glass counter lines the side wall, guns lined up neatly against the wall behind it.

  An old man is sitting at the end, drinking a cup of coffee. He pays me no attention and continues to work his crossword puzzle.

  I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look for someone else to help me. The shop is empty.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, my voice wobbling.

  He glances up but doesn’t say anything.

  “Can you help me?”

  He stands up and sets his pencil down. “What can I do for ya, Miss?”

  “I have this,” I say, making my way to the counter. I place my wedding ring on the glass, the clinking sound seeming so much louder than it probably is.

  “Is this yours?”

  I nod, batting back the tightness in my throat.

  “Where’d ya get it?”

  “It was my wedding ring.”

  I almost can’t do it. A surge of panic hits me hard and I straighten my back and look him in the eye, hoping I appear more confident than I feel.

  “You want to pawn it or sell it?” He sets the ring down and braces himself against the counter. He seems curious, but I don’t want to discuss anything with him. I want to get this over with.

  “Well, there’s no way I’m going to be able to buy it back, so sell it, I guess.” My voice breaks a little on the final word and I clench my teeth. This has to be done. I need the money.

  “If you sell it, it’s mine. You realize that, right?”

  I nod again, not trusting myself to speak. I try to force the ball of tears in the back of my throat to dissolve.

  He sighs. “I can give you $500.”

  I feel all hope drain from my body like an open sieve. Pawning my wedding ring, the most precious thing I own, is my last resort to keeping us afloat. $500 isn’t going to get me far.

  But it’s ahead of where you are now.

  “Can I ask you something?” He takes his glasses off and sets them down. “Why are you pawning this? Did you get divorced?”

  “My, um . . .” I watch the hands of a clock tick between two guns behind his head. I can hear the second hand tick softly; it’s almost hypnotic. “Um, my husband passed away and I need the cash.”

  “For a vacation or something?” His forehead is wrinkled, his eyes narrowed.

  I snort at the insinuation.

  I wish.

  I try to smile politely, frustrated that it’s taking so long and irritated that he would think I would sell my wedding ring to him for a vacation. I want to shout at him, lecture him on the ridiculousness of the question, but I don’t want to draw this process out any longer than necessary. Every question makes the pain of this process amplify even more.

  “No, sir. My daughter has been diagnosed with cancer and I’m broke.” My words come out clipped, yet I feel my bottom lip quiver.

  He watches me for a moment and then picks up his glasses. He puts them on, bends down, and grabs a form from u
nder the desk. “Fill this out, honey. I’ll be right back.”

  I answer the questions and get out my driver’s license, trying to keep my mind blank and not focused on what I’m doing. I don’t want to think about it. I know the ring is setting off to my right and I have half a notion to pick it up and run out the door.

  The man comes back and takes the paper. He notes a few things and slides my license back. I pop it into my wallet and watch him expectantly. The walls are closing in and I can’t breathe.

  He hands me eight $100 bills.

  “You told me $500,” I say, looking up to him.

  “Take it.”

  “Sir . . .” I can’t say anything else. I can feel the heat in my chest, the burn in my throat, and I know the ever-present lump is going to interrupt any words I try to say.

  “My wife and I will pray for your daughter. I hope she gets well, honey.”

  I can only nod and smile, the tears streaming down my face. I allow myself one final glance at the token of love Gage placed on my ring finger one beautiful August day and turn and walk out.

  CREW

  I tap my foot against the plank and it gives a little. As usual, the landlord fixed it but half-assed. It’s a good thing they’re moving because I have a little inkling that he and I would be going toe-to-toe if they were here much longer.

  I move the toothpick around my mouth and watch the street. I’m not sure where she’s at and if Olivia knows, she’s not telling. She did let me see Ever. She was sleeping in her bed. She seemed a little pale but it was good to just see her laying there. The dreamcatcher I gave her was hanging in the window and I hope to hell it works for her. She is living a real life nightmare, whether she knows it or not. Her dreams should be her safe place.

  Jules’ little blue Toyota rumbles up the street and pulls up to the curb. She looks up before turning her back for a minute and then getting out of the car. She makes her way up the sidewalk.

  As she gets nearer, I notice her eyes are swollen. Her steps quicken.

  “Hey,” she says, sniffling.

  “Hey.”

  “Is everything okay? Olivia didn’t call.”

  “Everything’s fine. Ever’s asleep.”

  I see the relief settle across her. She balances her bag on her shoulder.

  “Where ya been?” I ask.

  “I had a few errands to run.”

  “Like?”

  “What are you? My keeper?” she bites out. I know I’ve hit a nerve but I’m not sure why. All it does is make me more determined to figure it out.

  I eye her, warn her to tread carefully. “Maybe.”

  “Go away, Crew.” She rolls her eyes and starts up the stairs.

  I rise, peering down at her. Something has happened and she’s not telling me. Again. This shit’s gonna stop.

  “Where were you, Jules?” My tone is harsher than I even intended, but fuck it. I’m done playing with her.

  “I was trying to pay my water bill,” she says, her hand on her hip. “If I don’t get it paid before I move out, they’ll hold the security deposit and I could use that money right now. But, it was already paid.” She glares at me.

  “Where’d you get the money to pay it?” A hundred scenarios go through my head and I’m not comfortable with any of them. She doesn’t have the money to pay for anything. Where is she getting it?

  My jaw ticks while I wait for an answer.

  “None of your business.” She starts to go by me, but I block her path.

  I reach out and grab her arm. I spin her to face me. “It is my fucking business. Where did you get the fucking money?”

  Her eyes fill with tears and I’m thrown off balance. I don’t know what’s going on. If someone has hurt her or manipulated her, I’ll decimate them into a million fucking tiny, microscopic pieces.

  “I sold my wedding ring,” she whispers.

  “Why in the hell did you do that?”

  “I just . . .” Her chest heaves. “I need the money . . .”

  The tears flow instantly, pouring down her face. I pull her into me and wrap my arms around her. She buries her head in my chest and pounds on me with both fists, sobbing into my shirt. I hold her tighter and just let her use me as a punching bag.

  She winds both fists in my shirt and cries like I’ve never seen her cry before. It kills me. I feel so fucking helpless, so unable to fix this like I want to. I can’t fix the root of the problem—I can’t fix Ever. God knows I’d give her my fucking heart if it’d help.

  As I hold Jules to me and feel her misery, her struggle, her heartbreak, I know what I can help. And I’m going to do it whether she likes it or not.

  Man the fuck up.

  She pulls away and wipes the clumped hair out of her beautiful face.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, clearing her throat.

  I give her a second to get herself together before I speak. “I’m going to say this one time, Jules. And it’s not open for discussion.”

  She doesn’t argue with me, but tries to change the topic. “I thought you worked tonight.”

  “I took the night off to move you in with me. Like we agreed at the hospital earlier.”

  “About that . . .”

  “Yeah, about that.” I tip her chin up so I can see into her eyes. “I appreciate you wanting to take care of your life. I know it makes you feel vulnerable to need someone. I remember what it was like with your parents, remember?”

  She smiles sadly.

  “I also know what I did to you, so I get it. I get all your stupid reasons for not wanting me to be involved. And, logically speaking, you’re probably right. But I’m not logical and I’m not letting this shit happen anymore. You selling your ring was bullshit, Jules.”

  “I’m so behind, Crew. And I don’t know when I’m going to be able to catch up. I need money just to survive: food, gas to the hospital . . .”

  I drop her chin. “This is the way this is going to happen from here on out. Listen carefully, take notes if you gotta, but by God, pay attention. You are moving in with me. I’m taking care of you and Everleigh, at least until she’s better. Once that happens, and it will happen, Jules, then if you want to leave, we’ll discuss. But I’m drawing a fucking line in the sand right now and it’d do ya some good not to cross it.”

  “You can’t afford to take care of us.”

  “Julia. Stop.”

  She sighs and looks down. Like Everleigh, she’s pale. Her cheeks are hollowed, her lips ragged. It’s so fucking sad.

  “Right now, your job is to worry about that little girl we love. My job is to figure out the rest. I’m done pretending like you’re Superwoman.”

  “But it’s okay for you to pretend to be Superman?”

  “Yeah. Feel free to call me that if you want.”

  She starts to smile but catches herself. I can tell she’s worrying about something and I know we’ll stand here all fucking day before she just comes out and says it unless I push. So I push.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you looking like that?”

  “You won’t leave us?” she asks softly.

  “No.” It’s the simplest, most honest answer I can give her. I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to pull this off, but I will. I have to.

  She looks at me again. For the first time in a long time, I see a bit of hope. “I just don’t know if it’s the right thing. I mean, what will Ever think? Will it confuse her? And Gage . . .”

  “I tell you what,” I say and start to the house. I’m not playing twenty questions with her. I don’t have the fucking answers to everything. I just know this is what’s gotta be done. “You can call the cops and have them remove me or you can get your ass in here and help pack your shit.”

  JULIA

  My mind races and I’m unable to slow it down. It could be the pot of coffee I’ve drank, the lack of sleep last night, or the mere fact that today is a day I never thought I’d be facing. The day I’m moving in with Crew Gentry.

  Grante
d it’s for Everleigh and granted it’s probably not going to change much between us, but it’s still nerve-wracking. This isn’t what I want to happen . . . not by a long shot. I’d much rather be living in this apartment than with him, but I don’t have a choice. And when the options are considered, I know I’m going to need help and Ever is going to be happier with him than Olivia. So I’m doing what must be done.

  Lord help us all.

  I take a quick glance around the apartment. Everything I own is stuck in one box or another and lined against the wall of the living room. Crew has furniture and I can’t afford to put ours in storage. Olivia’s nephew is going to come and get what I don’t take. She helped me get packed up last night and even brought coffee over earlier this morning. She’s the only thing I’ll miss from here. This place never felt like home.

  A quick knock beats off the door and it pushes open. Crew’s head pops around the corner. He grins and comes in and closes the door behind him.

  I see the hesitancy in his eyes, the careful way he’s looking at me. He gazes slowly around the room and takes in the boxes. When he turns back to me, he seems more assured.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve already filled my car up with stuff. This is all that’s left.”

  “What about your furniture? Do you want to take any of it?”

  I shake my head. “No. We just need a bed and a dresser. If your spare room has that, we’ll manage.”

  I try to focus on the good. That we will have a place to stay. That having Crew, Ever’s favorite person, around will be good for her. That I won’t have to worry about bills. If I don’t focus on that, I start to panic, thinking that this is going to end in another tragic mess. That I know better.

  That if I had a different option, I’d take it. But I don’t.

  He smiles and his full lips part. The sunshine comes in through the windows making him seem younger. His grin soothes me a little and I appreciate having the edge taken off my nerves.