by Amy Durham
It was like saying the words out loud had somehow made them real.
And, indeed, in the dark of my room, with moonlight peeping through the curtains, hope simmered quietly in my heart.
Peacefulness didn’t exactly equate to easy slumber. So much information circled through my mind, that it was difficult to turn the thoughts off. Moment after moment passed while my brain continued to process it all.
Eventually, however, sleep came.
I drifted into the scene like a mist that rolled silently off the water. I recognized the kitchen of my house, and my parents sitting at the table together. I wasn’t so much in the room as I was a presence about the room.
I remembered this day. Two weeks prior I’d come home to find my parents at the table, exactly the way they sat today. They’d asked me to sit then dropped the bomb that had shattered my life.
On this day, I’d come home from school, pissed to find my dad’s car in the driveway. He’d been staying in Lexington with his brother, Nolan, since the day he obliterated our family, and I hadn’t missed him. Hadn’t I made it clear I didn’t want to see him again?
Even as the thought ran through my dream, I heard the front door open, listened as angry footsteps stomped toward my bedroom.
“Zoe,” my mom called. “Please come to the kitchen.”
I knew this was not Adrian’s doing. He hadn’t taken me back to revisit this day. I’d experienced it the first time. This was simply a dream of remembrance.
I knew exactly what happened.
Mom called again, and I knew I had no choice.
My eyes almost rolled back into my head. Did I really have to go through this again? Hadn’t we said it all the last time he was here?
I threw my backpack against my bedroom door and turned to stomp down the hall, pasting my most sullen expression on my face. If Dad wanted to talk, fine. He could talk. I wasn’t saying a word.
I flopped down into a kitchen chair, folded my arms across my chest, and looked at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.
“Your dad and I have made arrangements to start counseling,” Mom said. “Separately at first, but together after a while.”
I continued staring at my feet, not acknowledging her at all.
“Zoe, you can’t just…” Mom started to scold me, but Dad interrupted.
“Donna, it’s okay,” he said. “She’s got every right to be angry, just like you.”
I heard her take a deep breath. “Eventually we need you to be a part of our sessions. We need to work through this as a family.”
I lifted one shoulder, completely non-committal.
Mom started to speak again, and I just knew if she defended him again I’d explode.
Dad talked first. “We won’t force you before you’re ready.”
Funny that he was the parent demonstrating the most sense at this moment. Too bad he didn’t have any sense when it came to keeping his pants on.
“And I know you don’t want to talk to me. That’s okay.” He turned slightly to face me, but I didn’t look at him. All I saw was the legs of the chair moving. “I sent you an email. It’s not the way I want to communicate with you, but I wanted to do something to tell you how much I love you. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here, ready to listen.”
Ready to listen? Well, fine then. He could listen. “Don’t hold your breath waiting for me to suddenly spill my guts. But if you want to listen, listen to this.” I pushed the chair back from the table and stood up, ready to make my escape once I finished. “You make me want to throw up. I can’t even look at you.” Bile rose up in throat, and I forced it back down. “It makes me sick that your DNA is part of me.” Then I glared at him, looking him in the face for the first time. “You didn’t just cheat on Mom. You cheated on me, too. And I hate you for it. I wish you were dead.”
And those were the last words I ever spoke to my father.
The slam of the door as I entered my bedroom jolted me awake.
I sat straight up in the bed, taking in the darkness that told me it was still the middle of the night. I grabbed my cell from the nightstand, registering the time. Three o’clock a.m. I didn’t feel Adrian’s presence, but I looked at the beanbag anyway, slightly disappointed not to find him.
I knew the dream wasn’t from him. Memories of my dad had been stirred up all day, especially after my time at the creek with Adrian. I figured my subconscious was trying to work something out by pulling that memory from my brain and dropping it into my dream.
But what?
I replayed the scene in my mind, from arriving home to find Dad’s car in the driveway to the moment I stormed out of the kitchen. Very little had actually been said. Just Mom announcing their marital counseling. Dad telling me I had the right to be angry.
I sent you an email earlier today.
Dad’s email. A sinking feeling swept through me, threatening to cause my junk food binge to make a reappearance. How could I have forgotten? I’d been so pissed off that day, I’d opened my email as soon as he’d left and stuck his message into my junk folder without reading it.
And now, four months later, it waited for me.
Could I read it now, with less hatred and bitterness? Was it possible the time that had passed had softened me toward what he had to say? Or would reading it dredge up every ounce of anger I’d felt that day?
The laptop on my dresser might as well have stood up and crooked a finger at me in a “come hither” motion. Of course I was going to read it. Hadn’t I just been ecstatic at the thought of seeing my dad again when Adrian told me he could take me back? How could I not read the words he’d wanted me to see?
I retrieved my laptop and settled back against the pillows. With shaking hands, I logged into my email and found the message.
With one click, my dad’s words appeared in front of me.
Zoe, I have no excuses for my behavior. I could talk all day about the reasons, but none of them are any excuse for what I did. I want you to know that this is not your mother’s fault. She didn’t do anything – or fail to do anything – that drove me away. I made bad choices. I’m responsible for them. But more than all of that, I want you to know that I love your mother, and I love you. I know you don’t want to see me or talk to me, and as much as it hurts, I understand. But I will always love you, Zoe. No matter what. There’s nothing you can say or do, no place you can go that is far enough away to make me stop loving you. Whatever happens with your mom and me, we’re committed to being your parents. And being your dad means loving you more than anything. Forever.
Chapter 21
I didn’t sleep much the rest of the night. Between small bits of slumber, I re-read Dad’s email fifty times, thought back on that day, on all the ugly things I’d said, on the fact that I’d really meant them at the time. As Mom drove me to school, I wondered a million times what would’ve happened if I’d read his message that day. Would it have made a difference?
The only thing I’d come up with was that whatever had been said, whatever had gone unsaid, none of it really mattered now. I couldn’t change the past. All I could do was work on the now.
And I really wanted to. I wanted to find some kind of peace, find a way to forgive, so I could move on with my life. So Adrian and I could have a future.
But as I headed into school, I couldn’t help but wonder if all I deserved was to wallow in this misery for the rest of my life.
Adrian waited in the lobby, and even though I expected him, my heart still did a flip when I saw him. He was breathtakingly beautiful on the outside, and as I now knew, even more so on the inside.
And he was here for me.
I still found it so hard to believe that anyone – Adrian or his Boss – cared enough to go to all this effort for a nobody like me from small-town Kentucky.
“Morning.” His deep voice soothed my nerves. “You rest at all?”
“A little,” I answered. “I have something new to tell you, but not here. After s
chool.”
He nodded, reached for my hand.
His fingers closed around mine, warm and secure, and I smiled despite the fact that every eye in the lobby was now glued to the two of us. If there’d been any doubt before, Adrian’s hand grasping mine told all of them that we were together. Handholding was like the universal high school signal for we belong to each other. And yeah, I’d be lying if I said that didn’t thrill me to my toes.
I knew all the kids at school had heard about the theft of Mr. Austin’s things and the fact that I’d been suspended for it. I could announce that I’d been vindicated, but what good would it do? They’d still stare. And truthfully, I didn’t much care what they thought anymore.
In the entrance to the far hallway I saw Vivian, along with Brett, and my throat clogged. She made no move to speak to me, but her eyes still held all the hurt and distrust I’d seen yesterday. With a heavy sigh she turned away.
Adrian squeezed my hand and leaned down to whisper, “Give her time.”
Just then Principal Burton came out of the office, Mr. Austin standing behind him. With a small motion of his hand, he invited me into the conference room, and I said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that he hadn’t summoned me loud enough for everyone to hear.
“You know they’ve been suspended, right?” Adrian asked.
I figured as much. I also figured it wouldn’t make any difference. Nikki’s parents turned a blind eye to all her wrongdoings, and Courtney’s mom was too caught up in her own drama to bother with her daughter.
I looked up at Adrian, about to ask him to come with me. Before I could get the words out, he said, “You got this.”
Pressing a kiss against my cheek, he winked and added, “Text if you need me.”
Once inside the room, Principal Burton launched into his apology.
“Zoe, I’m terribly sorry about the unfortunate way this played out. You’ve never been a problem student before, but I’m sure you realize how damaging the evidence was.”
It wasn’t much in the way of apologies, but it wasn’t his opinion I was concerned about.
“I realize you were just doing your job,” I said. “Mr. Austin, I’m much more worried about what you think after all this.”
“I found it very difficult to believe that you would steal anything, from anyone,” Mr. Austin said. “Even though everything pointed to you, still couldn’t imagine a scenario where you’d take those things from me. I’m just very glad that someone had a video of what actually happened.”
“Of course, I’m not at liberty to discuss the punishments of other students with you,” Principal Burton inserted. “But I can tell you that the appropriate parties have been dealt with.”
I nodded and turned my attention back to Mr. Austin. “I hope this doesn’t change my status for student government elections.”
“Of course not,” he said. “And I’m very happy you finally decided to run for office.”
The warning bell rang, and with as much politeness as I could muster, I excused myself from Principal Burton’s presence and made my way down toward my locker.
* * *
The rest of the school day was blessedly uneventful. It helped that after the ugliness with Courtney, and the fact that I’d been framed for something I hadn’t done, people pretty much left me alone. I welcomed the normal routine and even felt a bit thankful for the Pre-Calculus homework I didn’t understand.
After school, Mom dropped me at home then headed back to her office. I almost asked her about having my car keys back, but decided to give it a few more days.
A slight humidity hung in the early September air, so I headed inside and grabbed two bottles of water and a package of chocolate chip cookies, looking forward to doing homework with Adrian.
Just as I stepped out the back door of the house, his motorcycle rumbled into the driveway. I wondered he why drove today, instead of walking like he usually did. I knew I had a long way to go in terms of moving on from the tragedy that had shaken my life, but for this afternoon, I planned to be a regular teenage girl, hanging out with a guy I was crazy about.
We dropped onto the bench of the picnic table as we’d done before, Pre-Cal books out and ready. Adrian straddled the bench like he always did, facing toward me.
“You said you had something to tell me,” he said, grabbing a bottle and twisting the lid off.
“Later.” I placed my fingers against his lips. “Let’s just do homework and normal stuff first.”
He grinned, circling my wrist with his large hand and holding his lips against my fingertips.
“I’m all for normal stuff,” he said, pulling me toward him and sliding his lips over mine. Inside me, everything bubbled. All the unresolved feelings about my dad. Every bitter, nasty thought I’d had about Courtney and her mom. But most of all, something warm and beautiful – that had nothing whatsoever to do with my family crisis and everything to do with Adrian – swam through my veins and seemed to overshadow all the resentment and fill what had been hollow and lacking.
The kiss lingered, Adrian’s hand finding its way to the back of my neck and tangling in my hair as he pressed kisses along my jaw and toward my ear.
“I love your hair,” he whispered, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin behind my earlobe. “It’s the color of sunshine.”
“I love your, um…” I lost all train of thought as his teeth closed gently on my ear. And really, how had I planned on finishing that sentence? I love your dark hair? I love your motorcycle? Your baby blue eyes? None of it sounded nearly as romantic as his declaration.
“Hmm?” he murmured, his lips finding their way back to mine for one, last kiss. He leaned back to look at me, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You love my what?”
I was caught and I knew it. Might as well just be honest. “Everything,” I answered, meaning it from the deepest part of my being.
He smiled and reached across the table for the textbook, his eyes never leaving mine. “Let’s get to work.”
My dad’s face flashed through my mind, as clear as if I’d thought of him on purpose. Startled, I sat up straighter, eyes searching for Adrian but seeing nothing but my father.
You’ll never be worthy of him.
Dad’s words thundered in my head as if he’d said them with a megaphone.
“Zoe, what is it?” Adrian asked, concern and worry punctuated in each word.
The image of my dad disappeared, and Adrian’s face filled my vision as he took my face in his hands.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded.
“It was my dad,” I whispered. “I didn’t think of him or imagine him. He just popped into my head.”
“What did he say?” he asked, leaning so close our foreheads touched.
I shook my head. How could I tell him what my dad had said when I knew it was the truth?
“Just playing with my fears again.” I closed my eyes so maybe he wouldn’t see that I’d withheld something from him. “Why is he doing this?”
“It’s not him, Zoe. Maybe it’s your own fears and insecurities. Maybe it’s my Boss’s enemy. Whatever it is, it is not your father.”
“Your Boss’s enemy?” I don’t know why the thought hadn’t occurred to me before. Adrian was a Messenger. Of course, I knew there was an enemy.
“His schemes run contrary to everything we try to accomplish. Naturally, he’d be thrilled for you to accept whatever lies you think your father has been telling you. But I repeat, that was not your father.”
I wanted to believe him, but it was difficult to share his certainty when what my dad had said was absolutely true.
I would never be worthy of Adrian. And someday he’d figure it out.
But in the meantime, Adrian was here, and his efforts were helping. For his sake, I would continue to try.
* * *
After finishing our Pre-Cal assignment, I retrieved my laptop from my bedroom and rejoined Adrian at the picnic table.
“I had a dream last night,” I said, c
licking to open my email inbox. “About my dad.”
“Was it a bad one?” Concern laced his voice, and I knew he was wondering why he hadn’t been alerted to come keep watch, the way he’d done when I dreamed about my dad at the cemetery.
“It wasn’t bad,” I replied. “It wasn’t really good, either. And it wasn’t like the dream at the cemetery or the visions I’ve had of him since. It was just a replay of something that happened not long after he and mom separated. A memory I’d buried.”
“Did it upset you?” He scooted closer, slipping his arm around my waist.
I shook my head, pulling up the email I’d remembered during the dream. “It reminded me of something my dad had said that day. He told me he’d emailed me. That it wasn’t how he wanted to communicate with me, but he understood I didn’t want to speak to him. It was his way of reaching out.”
I pointed to the screen as the email loaded, and Adrian rested his chin on my shoulder and began to read.
“I was so mad at him,” I whispered. “When he told me about the email, I went to my computer, dumped the message into my junk folder without reading it, and forgot about it until the dream last night.”
Adrian squeezed me tighter as he finished reading. “Do his words make you feel any different?”
I shrugged, because I truly did not know. “It’s what I expected. He said all the right things, all the things dads are supposed to say to reassure their kids. I think I’m probably more receptive to it now than I would’ve been that day.”
“Then that’s progress,” Adrian said. “Just recognizing that you can receive his words in a more effective way now.”
Nodding, I turned to face him, our faces only an inch apart. I wanted so badly to deserve him. “There’s more.”
“Another email?”
I shook my head. “More about that day. The things I said to him.” My voice broke and I closed my eyes to hold back the tears.