“Hold on.” My dad interjects. “We aren’t saying that, we’ll continue to pay for school and living expenses, we just don’t want you avoiding things because of your pride.”
“This has nothing to do with pride.” It has nothing to do with superiority . . . and everything to do with wounds. Open, gaping, flesh-tearing wounds. Ones caused by his words, his actions.
“Okay. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know how much time I lost, and I don’t want the same for you.”
“We’re two different people, Mom.”
“Point taken.” She rises and goes back to the kitchen to finish breakfast. Silence fills the tiny room. So much is unspoken but too many things have been said all at the same time.
The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. They asked me to come home during summer; I lied and said I’d think about it. I’ve already looked into moving to Seattle and starting summer session. I’ll break that news later. For now, I want to remain here, cloaked in obscurity.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
William
I reach for the bottle as I drop the mail. It slides off the counter, causing me to stoop to pick it up. My body aches from the punishment it’s enduring. Another night spent in jail, another lecture from the sheriff. Another visit from my parents. None of it makes a difference. Nothing will. The one thing I’d make an effort for is gone.
I’ll eventually have to get a job. My money won’t last forever.
Bill.
Bill.
Advertisement.
Bill.
I toss them in piles until a letter addressed to me at my old address is visible. It’s been forwarded here, and it’s three months old based on the postmark. Belize. International.
I rip it open, curiosity getting the best of me. I wrote off for my official birth certificate from Honduras, so I have no idea what this is.
I scan it. I scour it. I read it three times. The bottle drops from my hand and clatters to the floor shattering. I just said nothing would matter again. Nothing could make me change the course my life is heading.
I lied.
Your sister,
Elise.
That changes everything.
That gives me purpose.
I have a sister. I shake a photo from the envelope, and I don’t recognize her. She’s young…maybe eighteen. I read her letter again, see if I can retain any information.
Dearest William,
I know this will be a shock to you. I wasn’t sure if you knew I existed, although Papa assures me you don’t. He says you know nothing of your past or your heritage.
I’m your sister. Half-sister. Papa defected to Belize and met my Mama. They’ve been married for many years, and I just learned of you. Papa is on his deathbed, and his confessions are staggering.
I don’t know what else to say, but if you are interested in having a sister, please call. I’ve enclosed my number.
Your sister,
Elise
011+501+678+9872
The bottle that tempted me is forgotten. The urge to drink and fight obliterated. The need to feel a connection, learn about my past, and know my sister . . . overwhelming.
I dial without realizing. I listen to it connect with anticipation. I hear her voice with jubilation. I talk to her with familiarity.
Two strangers merge.
Brother and sister forge a bond.
She’s coming to visit. Her life there up in the air; she informs me our Papa passed last week and she want’s a change of scenery. The news of his death is a blip to me; he isn’t my father, just my DNA donor. My fathers are ten minutes away, believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.
Her personality is stifled, but I think it’s because her English is a second language. She wants to attend college, be a nurse, and help others. She has many opportunities at home, but she wants to explore and said moving here wasn’t unheard of.
I rush to share my news with Dad and Pops, hoping they’ll accept her as easily as I have.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Emma
A year.
365 days.
525,600 minutes.
31,536,000 seconds.
All have passed since that night. James has healed. I’ve moved . . . twice. Yet, my heart still hasn’t mended. My mind still drifts to him. My dreams are still infiltrated by our future. Time doesn’t heal all wounds . . . some are etched in time; burned so deeply inside there’s no escaping them.
This summer was full of change. I moved across the country, started my Masters, and realized I don’t necessarily fit in with the culture. Seattle is beautiful, artsy, laid-back, full of life. New York is all hustle and bustle, and Seattle is taking in all the sights, exploring, finding that sweet spot that inspires you. I’ve picked tons of places I want to bring my parents; I’ve explored so much of this town, yet I don’t feel like a faceless stranger. A small smile, gentle suggestion, friendly comment . . . those are second nature here.
Holly went home this summer and begged every day for me to visit. I couldn’t. Not yet. She didn’t return to New York, her heart is with Andy, and she gave it the ole ‘college try.’ It was easy to make my parents stay quiet regarding Will, but Holly . . . no such luck. I’m staring at this gum wall wondering if there is enough here to seal her lips . . . permanently.
“Holly, I’m studying. Can I call you back?”
“Nope, because you won’t. You, Emma Nichols, have turned into a liar.”
Not a liar, a serial avoider . . . I’ll own that. “If you’d stop talking about all the things I’m missing, I’d want to talk to you.”
“Ouch. You wound me. Kidding, I’m not that soft.” She’s a hot fucking mess. “If you miss it so much, come home. You have a break before fall session.”
“I can’t. It’s a long flight, I need to prep because I’ll have a full course load.”
“Do you believe yourself? I’m just wondering because I don’t. You don’t want to run into him, but does that mean you’re never coming home?” Maybe. I’d considered that possibility, and while it hurts thinking I won’t return to my home turf, it hurts a lot less than it would seeing him move on from me or in the state he was in this past year.
“Never say never.”
“Okay, Biebs.” I can picture her rolling her eyes. “He’s better. He hasn’t been arrested since I’ve been home.” I can’t believe that’s a comparison tool we are using to measure how far he’s come. The boy I fell in love with wouldn’t have ever been mentioned in a sentence with ‘jail time.’
“You realize how fucked that sounds? He’s better because he stopped doing time? He’s straightening his life out because he didn’t spend the night in the pokey? C’mon, Holly, you’re better than that.”
“Just like you’re stronger than this. That night was bullshit Emma, and you know it.”
“You weren’t there.” My hackles raise.
“No, but if what you told me is true, it was bullshit. You can’t punish the person who didn’t do the crime. When did you become so non-forgiving? What did you used to say about stupid and mistakes?”
“Mistakes can be fixed.”
“Right, you’ve both made some. I know he said some awful things, but you backed him in a corner with your allegations. Role reversal. How’d you feel?”
“I don’t know because that wouldn’t be me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” I’m confident.
“And why did you keep your mouth shut about what they were saying for years?” She knocked the wind out of my sails. Why did I stay mute? Why didn’t I tell someone? I have no answers, nothing that would validate me. “I’ll leave you to mull it over. Let me know when I can pick you up from the airport.”
There will be no airport because I won’t be going home. I threw some sanctimonious crap at him that night; he snapped. I can’t fault him.
The blamer becomes the accused.
The righteous becomes the unfair.
; The ethical becomes the immoral.
The sins I cast on him rest fully on my shoulders. I can’t go home and face him.
I’m running.
I’m hiding.
I’m ashamed.
Chapter Forty
William
A year ago my life spiraled. Today, I’m meeting my sister. I went from hot under the collar, uncontrollable, and disturbed to the man I longed to be.
Working nights bartending leaves my days free to go to class. I miss playing football. I miss the brotherhood, but I’m needed here. I learned to mend relationships; my parents and I are closer than ever. Honesty is freeing; perfection and the goal to be that are stifling and unrealistic.
I believed I had to be perfect, or appear so, or I wasn’t worthy of their love, their devotion, their sacrifice. They rescued me, and I couldn’t make them regret it. Lots of talks and counseling allowed me to hear what they’ve said all along.
I wasn’t a burden but a blessing.
Love wasn’t conditional but unrestricted.
Perfection was an illusion, one easily shattered.
Flaws were beauty and embracing them made you grow.
I’m getting a second chance. The love of my life may be gone, but I can start over with my sister. I can be who she needs me to be: strong, protective, honest, accepting. All the things I’ve kept buried. Afraid to rock the boat, afraid to be cast aside, afraid to be me.
I stare at the stars wondering if Emma is staring at the same sky, at the same time. Hoping she’s happy, praying she’ll come back.
The man I was doesn’t deserve her; the man I’m becoming is worthy and devoted.
Elise is my salvation. She learns my history, living with James and Brett. She doesn’t let my mistakes change her opinion of me; I’m her big brother and my past isn’t my future. She’s enthralled with all my football awards and stares at pictures of me growing up in wonder. I share the memories, telling stories where each was taken, when every trophy was given to me. Her eagerness to learn allows me to take pride in stuff I’d forgotten. It allows me to examine myself with clarity. Dad and Pops are over the moon. It doesn’t matter that she’s eighteen; they think they have another child to raise.
Her English is getting stronger thanks to the tutor we hired; she’s submitted college applications but wants to stay in town for a bit. She wasn’t able to shed much light on where I came from. From what she knows, I was saved twice. Once by the man who ran, the man whose DNA runs through me. He was neither a villain nor a saint. Second, Dad and Pops; whatever they saw in me, whatever connection made them break the rules, I’m grateful. Without their guidance, I cringe thinking where I’d be.
I have a night off, and we decided dinner at their house was warranted. I have big news I want to share. James called to let me know Phoebe and Luke would be joining us. I’ve seen them a few times, but I’ve avoided being where they are for long periods. I’m ashamed of my actions that night. I hate how I reacted.
“Where is everyone?” I call as I make my way through the empty rooms. I see them out back, soaking in the last rays of sun shining. The deck has become a favorite thinking spot of mine. “You too busy to greet your guests?”
“Son, you’re not a guest. Get your ass out here.” I hug my parents and Elise. I give Luke and Phoebe a nod. Luke steps forward and gives me a handshake/hug; Phoebe hugs me, tighter and longer than I’m used to.
“Uhh.” I don’t know what to say, I knew they’d be here, but their acceptance is confusing to me. Looking at Phoebe sends me to the opposite end of the deck to gain composure; it’s like looking at Ems in twenty years.
“Hey.” She invades my space. “We can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No. No.” My head shakes vigorously. “I wasn’t prepared for that welcoming. It’s been a while since we’ve been in the same room.”
“You’ve done a good job avoiding us, but it’s time to stop.” Her hand grasps my forearm. “You’re not to blame for what happened that night.”
“Not directly.”
“Not at all. What transpired after . . . that’s yours and my stubborn daughter’s cross to bear. I won’t betray either of you, but I want to be a part of your life. We watched you grow and become the man you are today. We’ve missed you.” She sniffles and hides her eyes. “Do you remember all the days you and Luke tossed a football with Emma bringing you water and playing with her dolls five feet from you?” I smile at the memory. “I was so worried she’d get clunked in the head with the ball, but you were so attuned to where she was, and if the ball veered in that direction, you were there to block it.”
“It was simple then.”
“It’s only as hard as you make it. I’m forever doling out advice whether you want it or not. I’m trying to get better, but it’s who I am. As a mom, it’s what I do. I can’t tell you what the future holds, but I can tell you what we all saw in you and Emma. It was real. I hope it’s everlasting, but if it’s not, I want you to be happy. I want you to forgive yourself and heal.”
“I’m working on that.”
“Good. Come join the rest of us.” She pulls me, and I follow.
Elise studies us, her head cocked, eyes curious. The dinner flows and laughter drifts between us. I stand and clear my throat. Looking at my dads, Elise, Luke, and Phoebe, I pull the envelope from my pocket. I open it without speaking and pass it to James.
His eyes skim, his smile wide. Brett takes it. His breath skips, his hands tremble. Elise has trouble reading, so Brett helps her translate as he hands it to Phoebe who shares with Luke. Her fingers go to her mouth, he tugs his hair. His eyes meet mine . . . respect is given and accepted. “I’m the newest recruit for the academy. I start next month.”
“Congratulations.”
“Proud of you!”
“Be careful.”
“You can do this.”
As the adults continue to cheer, I steal Elise to the side of the deck. “You okay?”
“I’m confused. The police aren’t always nice.”
“In your country. There are a few bad apples here, but we don’t work the same way you’ve witnessed. I know you lived in the less populated area, but for the most part, Belize’s police officers are good, law abiding, people.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“It can be. I promise I’ll do my best.” I tickle her under her chin, seeing a smile that mirrors mine has my jaw going slack. I hear the clicking of cameras, and I warn her. “This is going to be awhile.”
Chapter Forty-One
Emma
It happens today. I’ve completed my Masters in Social Work, MSW, but I have no idea where it’ll lead me. The challenges I face are nothing compared to what others are facing in their quest to become a family, the scars some hold, the anguish some cause, the joys some bring, the completeness of two becoming three, four, five, et cetra . . .
My parents flew in late last night. My mom’s dance studio had their recital yesterday and she couldn’t miss it, but they wouldn’t miss my graduation either. I had to be here early and with the time difference, we just agreed to meet after the ceremony. I see them in the crowd, their eyes fixated on the stage. My name is called; wolf whistles and cheers too loud to come from two people follow me. They can cause a ruckus.
“You did it.” My mom is full of energy.
“I did.” Waving the diploma in their faces.
“This is why I’m broke.” My dad grabs it from me.
“Ha-ha.” He kisses my head and won’t let go.
“I’m so damn proud of you baby girl.”
“Thanks. I’m starving. You’re buying lunch.” I wink at him and join my mom and the rest of the people exiting the auditorium.
I haven’t had the chance to tell them I’m coming home. It’s time. I’m ready. One of the top international adoption agencies is here in Washington, but this isn’t where I see myself. I have a lot of crow to eat and a lot of wrongs to right.
“Oh, you have to see the
gazebo James had Brett build.” James was fixated with the gazebo in our backyard, and I guess Brett got the hint.
She grabs her camera and hands it to me. I scroll through the first few; admiring the view from the deck where I spent a lot of my evenings. The trees in bloom, smoke from the grill. The gazebo comes into view, and it’s serene. I love it.
It is hidden in a corner and painted a light cream with vines weaving in the trellis. I bet James loves it. “It’s—” I’m stopped in my tracks. The next photo has the gazebo, but in the corner, almost out of the frame, an image seizes my breath.
His smile engulfing his face, his eyes dancing in the sunset, his skin smooth and tan.
She is laughing at something he’s done. She is feeling his fingers under her chin. She’s with him.
I shut it off, handing it over. “It’s gorgeous, I bet he loves it.” She jumps in telling me how he spends his days there and wants dinner under the stars every night. I’m pushing my chicken with my fork, the lump in my throat and weight in my stomach preventing me from eating it. I force a smile, nod in the right moment. I continue to live the lie I have for twenty-one months. A few more minutes won’t matter.
“You okay?” my dad questions.
“Yeah, I’m great.” Lie.
“Have you decided if you’re coming home?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve accepted a position here.” Lie.
“Emma.” My mom is crying. “I want you to be happy, but we miss you. This is so far.”
“I know. I couldn’t pass it up.” Lie.
“Does this have to do with Will? He’s doing better. Y’all should talk.”
“Mom, what happened is in the past. I’m over it, you should try doing the same.” Lie.
“You’re not close to being over it. I’ll tell you this; when you stand inside the frame you don’t see the same picture everyone else does. We see you hurting, drifting . . . he’s doing the same. He’s putting his life together, making something from the tragedy, you could learn to do that.”
Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) Page 23