Didn’t they care that Lilly could hear everything they said? She squeezed the pillowharder. Fights between Mom and Stan headed downhill fast—faster each time. She pondered the few moments of peace that had peppered the past few years. Those times used to be more frequent but were a rarity lately.
Still covering her ears, Lilly strained to hear sounds of the fight. Silence. She slowly let go of one side of the pillow and waited a few more seconds—no yelling. Releasing the other side, she sat up on her bed, letting the pillow fall to the floor, then leaned toward the door to listen.
Lilly’s West Highland terrier jumped up on the bed, nails plucking at the crocheted afghan, and started licking her hand. “Not now, Paisley. Shh.” She moved the fluffy little dog to the floor and leaned even closer to the door.
A thick blanket of blond hair hung over her eye. She brushed the hair away and tucked it behind her ear, but it fell right back. Irritated, Lilly pulled the hair tie from around her wrist and gathered all of her thick, straight hair into her hands, twisted it into a bun, and slipped the band around the whole thing, securing it behind her head, out of her way.
There it was. Sigh. Muffled crying. The familiar sound of Mom’s soft sobs. Lilly looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. Why did Mom always let it come to this? What kind of person allowed herself to get pushed and worked up to the point of tears so often? What a way to live.
She waited a few minutes to make sure the fight didn’t start up again. It rarely did after Mom dissolved, but Lily could never be sure. No loud bangs, no yelling, no dangerous crashes. All she heard was the sound of her mom crying.
Unwilling to let Mom suffer alone, Lilly stood up. She tugged her sweater down to cover her midriff and stepped over her pillow on the way to the door. One hand on the knob, she took a deep breath. Blowing the air from her lungs, Lilly opened the door swiftly to keep the hinges from squealing, then stepped out into the hallway.
She crept toward her mom’s bedroom, trying to step over the floorboards that creaked—no sense alerting Stan to her presence. Peering around the corner and through the doorway, Lilly’s breath caught at the scene. Mom sat on the floor, her back against the wall with her knees drawn to her chest and poking out through the slit in her once-pink fuzzy bathrobe. A faded pink slipper covered one foot,
but the other was bare. Lilly’s eyes located the missing shoe on the floor across the room where it had most likely been thrown.
Why, Mom? Didn’t she believe she was worth more than this? Paisley snuck into the room, went right to Mom, and started licking the pink toenail polish on her naked foot.
No light shone from the bathroom, and except for the sobs, the room stood silent. Stan must have left the house. Had the garage door gone up? Lilly couldn’t remember hearing it, but it was possible she just hadn’t noticed. What should she do? If Stan was in there, she sure didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Go to Mom? Wait?
The door to Stan’s walk-in closet flew open and banged against the wall. He barged out with his coat on and keys in his hand, then stormed across the room and blustered through the doorway Lilly leaned against. Stan didn’t say a word—didn’t even glance at her. Invisible—which she preferred at times like this.
Lilly heard the garage door go up. She waited. A few seconds later, it went down. Mom used to beg him not to drive when he got like this—now she just let him leave.
With Stan finally gone for sure, Lilly hurried across the room, stepping over a lamp and several books strewn across the floor. Crouching beside her mom on the floor, Lilly put her arms around her. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Mom shrugged her shoulders and shook Lilly’s hands off her arms. “I’m fine. We only had a little argument.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He didn’t mean anything by all of this. Stan’s been working two part-time jobs, and now he’s feeling pressure to get another one. He’ll be okay.”
Sigh. Same old excuses. Stan’s under pressure. Stan didn’t mean it. Stan means well. It had been four years. When would it end? When would Mom get some self-respect? She still seemed to hope Lilly would grow to like, even love, Stan. Not a chance.
Lord, please help her. “Okay, Mom. You want to be alone?”
Mom ran her fingers through her mop of curly hair—dyed to her original honey blond, which matched her daughter’s—then blew her red, puffy nose into a crumpled tissue. “Yeah. I’ll pull myself together and be downstairs in a few minutes.”
Lilly knew what came next—it always happened the same way. She’d leave, and Momwould start bawling again—might even turn on the tub faucet to drown out the sounds of her sobs. Eventually, she’d take a shower, trying to wash away the tears. After about an hour, Mom would emerge from her bedroom with makeup on, fresh clothes, perfume trailing behind her—the works. All in an effort to prove she had it together. The next day, Stan and Mom would be all lovey-dovey. They’d spend the day together and pretend they were newlyweds. Then, on Sunday, they’d sit beside each other at church, hold hands, smile, and nod along with the sermon. Monday? It would start all over.
Lilly walked from the room and pulled the door toward her. Right before it closed, she tilted her head and waited. On cue, the faucet came on in a loud gush, but not before the crying resumed. Unable to listen any longer, she hurried to her room and shut the door. Ridiculous. She’d never let a man treat her like that. Shouldn’t a husband love and protect his wife? Not badger and belittle her, that’s for sure. Not that Mom acted like a perfect wife, but still.
Lilly reached for her phone. Talking to Jason always made her feel better. Holding down the number two button until the speed dial kicked in, she waited for it to connect. Oh fun. He’d changed his caller tune. As she waited for him to pick up, she listened to a few bars of a love song they’d heard on the radio the other day.
“Hey, cutie.” Jason answered his phone with his customary greeting.
“Hey.” Lilly smiled. “I like the new caller tune. Sweet of you to remember.”
“Ah, I’m like that—nice, ya know.”
“Yeah. I’m the only one who can hear it, though. Right?”
“‘Course. You think I want my buddies hearing me be all romantic like that?”
“Ha-ha. I’m going to tell them.” Memories of the past hour flew from her mind; stress rolled off her shoulders.
“You go right ahead. They’ll never believe old manly me is sappy.”
“You’re probably right.” Lilly wished she could see him. His clear blue eyes always had a calming effect on her. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m hanging out in Dad’s garage. We’re changing the oil in his car and replacing the filter so we can tuck ‘er in for winter.”
Lilly could picture Jason in his greasy work jeans and a white T-shirt with oily handprints, bent over the tricked-out hood of his dad’s vintage silver Jaguar. They babied that car, treated her like a pretty lady should be treated. She wondered if he’d shoved his thick, wavy hair into a cap as he sometimes did when he worked. His brown curls never stayed tucked under there for long.
“Sounds like fun.” Lilly put a carefree lilt in her voice, not wanting to distract him with her worries. “I won’t keep you then. Just checking in.”
“‘S’okay. Your voice sounds like you’re lying down, which usually means you’re frustrated. Which always means there was a fight.”
How did he know that? He could see into her soul—knew better than anyone it seemed. “Yeah. No biggie, though. Don’t even worry about it.”
“We’ll talk about it, cutie. Later tonight, okay?”
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Lilly smiled. “Call me when you’re free.” She pressed the OFF button on her phone and slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans. She rested her hands under her head and stared at the ceiling. Stan and Jason. Different as night and day. Her stepfather could really take some sensitivity lessons from her boyfriend. Poor Mom. She deserved someone like Jason—not like the jerk she m
arried.
Enough. Lilly stood up, adjusted her sweater again, and resolved to put the misery behind her and grab something worthwhile out of the afternoon. She looked out the window. There were tons of leaves all over the yard. Maybe if she raked them up, Jason—or maybe even Stan—would burn them; the smell of burning leaves would put everyone in a good mood. Plus, it would sure feel good to get outside in the fresh air.
While Lilly dug in the hall closet for something warm to wear, she finally heard the shower stop. She pictured her mom toweling off, looking at her puffy face and red eyes in the mirror, wondering how she could possibly hide the evidence of the afternoon. She’d be awhile.
Pulling on boots and a green puffy vest, Lilly hurried out of the house, letting the aluminum screen door snap shut with a slam. If Stan were home, he’d bellow from his recliner, “Don’t slam the door.” Lilly realized long ago that Stan much preferred to pretend she didn’t exist than to hear her or, worst of all, see her. Fighting the urge to go slam the door again, Lilly went to the garage for a rake.
The leaves were wet and heavy from the damp Chicago weather. She inhaled deeply,
replacing the stale air of the depressing house. The leaves gathered easily at first. Pull. Drag. Pull. Lilly’s muscles ached, but she kept going—she felt alive. The burn started in her shoulders; then her elbows started to scream. After a bit, blisters formed on her hands. No matter—she felt in control, invigorated.
Two hours later, spent but revived, Lilly looked at the green grass. Leaves that had once blanketed the grass now stood heaped—one pile on each side of the house, two in the front yard and three in the back. It would take a wheelbarrow to get them all to one big burn pile in the backyard.
Trudging up the sloped backyard with a wheelbarrow full of sopping wet leaves proved harder than Lilly had imagined. Two more loads about did her in. Facing the burn pile, she wondered what would happen if she burned the rest of the piles right on the lawn where they sat. Nah. Stan would consider that justifiable cause for homicide. Maybe he’d be right. Lilly shook her head at her own crazy thoughts and turned around to grab the wooden handles of the wheelbarrow with her blistered fingers. To her surprise, a familiar blue Toyota pulled to a stop in her driveway.
Jason!
She released her grip, ran over to the car, and leaned down to look in the window.
Jason, dressed exactly as Lilly had imagined he would be, reached over to turn down the music. He flashed his movie-star teeth in a grin.
Lilly opened the door and stood aside so he could climb out. “What are you doing here? I thought you were helping your dad.”
“I was. I did.” Jason pulled her close in a playful hug. “But you needed me more.”
“Thanks. I’m so glad you’re here.” Relieved, Lilly watched as he surveyed the yard.
“You do all this by yourself?”
“Yeah, and I have the blisters to prove it.” She held up her raw, peeling hands.
“Oh man. That must hurt.” Jason got some leather work gloves from his trunk and pulled them on. He walked over to the wheelbarrow. “What’s left? Just those few piles?”
“They need to go in back onto the big one. You’ll see it when you get back there.” Lilly breathed a sigh of relief as Jason dug in with a rake, putting his strong shoulders to use.
Jason would make everything all right.
Chapter 2
MY LILLY
“Want to go out and get something to eat?” Jason looked hopeful. “All that raking made me hungry.”
“What, and leave this haven of bliss even for a moment?” Lilly gestured around her dark house from the dining room table where they sat talking. Stan had returned from pouting and taken his throne in front of the television where he’d likely remain all evening, even through dinner. Mom puttered in the kitchen making bologna sandwiches—those and a bag of ruffled potato chips to rest on his belly, and Stan would be in heaven. Lilly rolled her eyes at the thought.
“Right.” Jason smirked and shook his head.
“As much as I’d love to, you know as well as I do, he isn’t going to let me.” Lilly shrugged and jerked her head toward the family room. “He doesn’t let you in my room. I’m not allowed out after dark, even on the weekends. No way he’ll let me go out to dinner on a school night unless it’s for a school or church activity.”
“Why don’t you ask your mom? Why even ask Stan?”
Lilly dropped her voice to a whisper. “Because my mom doesn’t have an opinion about things these days—you know that. She isn’t given a say in what goes on.” She looked toward the kitchen entrance. “Watch. I’ll show you.”
Sliding her chair back, Lilly walked into the kitchen and stepped up behind her mom, who stood at the counter spreading Miracle Whip on white bread. Mom preferred real mayonnaise, but Stan hated it. So, no more real mayo. “Mom?”
She whipped around with a stunned expression—must not have heard Lilly approach. “Ooh. You scared me.” She laughed while she fanned her face and patted her chest. “What is it, Lill?”
“Calm down … it’s just me.” Lilly laughed, relieved at the lightened mood. Must act casual. “I wanted to ask if Jason and I could go for a quick burger.”
Mom’s eyes darted toward the family room.
“You’ll have to ask Stan about that.” She returned her focus to the sandwiches, slapping even more Miracle Whip onto the bread.
Gross. Lilly grimaced and shook her head. “Mom. Can’t you make the call? You parented me alone after Dad left until I turned twelve. If I remember correctly, you did a pretty good job of it those six years. You make the decision for once.”
She gripped the counter and leaned her head down, almost between her elbows. “Don’t put me in that position, Lill. Not today.”
Enough’s enough. “If not today, when, Mom? Don’t you think this is all going too far?”
“What’s going too far?” Stan spoke from the doorway.
Mom’s arms stiffened and her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t turn around at the sound of Stan’s voice. “We were talking about how Lilly and Jason want to go out to grab a burger right now.”
Stan snorted. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” He grabbed a handful of chocolate chip cookies from the cookie jar and left the room, leaving a trail of crumbs behind him.
Lilly waited, but her mom never turned around or commented. “Whatever.” Shaking her head in disgust, Lilly stormed out of the kitchen and into the dining room where Jason sat. She tilted her head toward the front door. “Outside.”
They stepped out onto the porch and sat down on the brick stoop, legs touching. Lilly hadn’t put on a coat, and the night air felt chilly, but she didn’t care. After being in the stifling house, the cold felt good.
“I’m sorry things are so rough for you.” Jason stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.
Lilly shivered and nodded. “It’ll be okay. I just get fed up sometimes. I wish my mom could be stronger.”
Jason tugged his coat off his arms and slipped it around her trembling shoulders. He pulled her close. “Yeah. I’m sure you do. She probably wishes the same thing.”
“But she is strong sometimes—in a weird way. He pushes her buttons and she gets really mad. Crazy mad. Then he does something stupid like throwing a lamp or knocking over a chair.” Lilly shook her head. “Why get married if you can’t respect each other? I’ll never stand for that … never.”
“I guess they probably rushed into things and didn’t know how it would be. Now they’re kind of stuck. And,” Jason shrugged, “maybe in a weird way they even love each other.”
“They need serious help…. We all do, I guess.”
Lilly and Jason sat silently on the cold bricks, staring at the starry sky. Jason reached over and took her blistered hand from her lap. He held it between both of his and looked deeply into her eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”
She tried to believe him. “I know.” Lilly forced a smile and nod
ded. “You know what else? I wish Mom had stuck to her promise that I could date when I turned sixteen. I mean, how long are you going to put up with having to hang out with me at home all the time? You’re seventeen, after all. Plus, you have normal parents.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter much to me. I’m not going anywhere.” Jason winked and smiled. “You’re my Lilly.”
Comforted, Lilly leaned back against his chest and shoulder. She felt at peace, safe, loved. How long had she known Jason? Ten … no, twelve years. They’d shared a neighborhood, a church, and a school for almost her whole life—all she could remember anyway. He became her best friend. Her future. Her soul mate.
At first it had seemed weird to think of Jason like that. Lilly smiled at the memory and nuzzled in a little closer. Until about the time she turned twelve, he’d just been Jason. But then something clicked—Jason turned cute. Over the past four years, they’d grown closer and closer. “My rock,” she whispered.
“Huh? Did you say something?”
Did she say that out loud? “No, no. Just mumbling…. Nothing important.”
“Ugh. It’s so good to get out of there, Grams.” Lilly sank into the passenger seat of her grandma’s Saab Turbo. “Where’re we going?”
“Two girls, out on the town with no parental fuddy-duddies? Why, shopping, my dear, of course.” Grams flipped down her visor, checked her lipstick, and adjusted her short, spiky wig.
Lilly smiled at her. No one would ever guess Grams to be sixty-five. She looked younger, but more than that, she had the spirit of youth. Even a bout with breast cancer hadn’t slowed her down more than a day or two at a time. Lilly remembered the day, the moment, a few months ago when she found out her beloved Grams’s cancer had gone into remission. She had been so scared—what would she ever do without her Grams? She shuddered, grateful she didn’t have to find out.
The bass thundered through the car—boom, boom, boom—as the Christian rock music thundered from the car speakers. Grams bounced and danced in her seat as the little rocket sped along the highway toward the mall.
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