Cisco looked over his shoulder at them. “What’s today’s date?”
“October second,” Jesse said.
A sigh rushed out of Kallie. “My dad’s birthday.”
Cisco and Avra wandered up the bleachers in the football stadium as if they were in no hurry to get home. Cisco sprawled across the top bench; Avra leaned against the press box opposite him.
The reminder of her father’s birthday pressed Kallie down onto the bench across from Jesse. “It’s my fault Aly and I aren’t having cake and ice cream with Dad. I wish Cisco hadn’t brought it up.”
“How is it your fault your dad had a child with a woman at his office and cut you, Aly, and your mom out of his life?”
Jesse thought he knew the whole story, but he didn’t. He so didn’t. “You don’t know.” Her voice cracked.
“Spill then,” Jesse said.
Avra leaned toward her from seats above. “Jesse’s right. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
She looked at Avra, Cisco, then Jesse. The urge to tell the truth as penance for what she’d done filled her. Maybe if she confessed, God would absolve her—like telling a priest your sins. She’d never told the whole story, not even to Jesse. She took a deep breath.
The decade-old videotape played in her mind as she talked.
She was twelve, on the cusp of puberty, no doubt—awash in bitterness and boredom on a visit to Dad’s. She pulled out the snow globe she’d carried in her backpack since Dad gave it to her two years earlier. He’d given it to her after she sang a solo of Silent Night at Midnight Mass. She’d thrown up from nerves beforehand, but made it through her performance. Dad said he was proud of her.
She shook it. Silvery pieces of rain swirled around a Christmas tree framed by two palm trees. A blonde girl sang from a book in front of the tree. One hundred percent of her Christmases had been snowless, and she hated fake-looking Christmas snow scenes. The globe was the only one she’d ever seen filled with rain.
For a long time, just feeling the round, solid shape through her backpack made her feel warm, loved. In the last year, the globe became her hope that Dad would wake up and remember that he loved them. Her.
Dad’s new house smelled like plastic and carpet glue. She and Aly spectated Dad, Erika, and baby Michael’s life. Only, Dad didn’t belong in this picture. He belonged at home with them. But strangers lived in that house now. She mindlessly tossed the globe in the air with one hand, the repetition soothing her. She wanted to be with Mom at the apartment. No, she wanted the impossible—Dad and Mom and Aly happy in their yellow Cape Cod tucked between shady oaks in South Miami.
“Kallie,” Erika said, “Put the globe down. You’ll break it.”
Anger flash-fired through Kallie. “You’re not my mother. I don’t have to do what you say.”
“Clark!” Erika yelled toward the kitchen. The angry hysteria in her voice bounced around the room.
Kallie stopped tossing the globe. “So what if I break it?” Kallie said with quiet venom. “You already broke my family.”
Aly shut the coloring book and sat up. She scooted her back against the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“Mom is at that stupid condo—alone—recovering from a hysterectomy. My dad could be taking care of her right now. Aly has nightmares every night and has to sleep in my bed with the light on.”
Aly’s eyes got huge.
“This represents what you’ve done to us ...” A vortex of rage swirled around her and sucked her in. She hurled the globe with the strength of her fury.
The missile missed Erika’s head and shattered against the wall behind her. Terror pulsed through Erika’s eyes. She hunched protectively over the baby.
Good. She deserved to be terrified. Kallie was the ace pitcher on her softball team, but she doubted Erika remembered that. Kallie would have hit her if she wanted to.
“Kallie!” Dad’s face reddened with the effort to control his anger. She hadn’t heard him enter the room. “Get your things; I’m taking you home.”
Dad detested emotional outbursts.
She didn’t care. “Home?” Kallie spat at him. “Home was the house on Eucalyptus Lane where we lived all our lives.” She motioned toward Aly who hadn’t moved. “You kicked us out, remember? Just because so many people get divorced, you think it doesn’t hurt us kids. You took our Mom too. Now she has to go to work—so you can have this slut.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Erika wince. Good. She’d meant revenge.
“Shut up!” Dad said. She’d never heard him use that expression. He yanked her by the arm and marched her into the guest room, where he threw things into her suitcase. Aly scampered behind him, tossing items into her Little Mermaid bag.
Kallie stomped her foot in the doorway. “You can’t just throw your family away like a half-eaten kid’s meal from McDonalds”
Kallie looked away from the track she’d been staring at while telling the story, toward Jesse, Avra, and Cisco. “But he did throw us away. We never saw him again. He probably thinks I’m psycho, that I’d really hurt Erika or my baby brother.”
Avra rubbed Kallie’s arm in silent comfort.
“You were twelve years old. Your whole life came unglued. What kid wouldn’t freak?” Cisco said. “When my dad left, I went wacko for, like, two years—and I was nineteen and twenty.”
Wow, they didn’t blame her. She felt like they’d hacked open her tomb that had been sealed for ten years. Fresh air rushed in.
“I read something in the Bible this week that totally relates, Isaiah 53:3-5.” Avra’s voice surged with excitement. She rubbed her forehead trying to remember. “Jesus understands how you feel. Isaiah says He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering.” She looked at Jesse. “Come on, help me out here.”
Jesse let out a long breath as though he’d rather not. “‘Surely He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered Him stricken by God, smitten by Him and afflicted. But He has pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him and by His wounds we are healed.’“
Wonder, a fast-forward flower growing on the Discovery Channel, sprang up in Kallie.
All eyes on him, Jesse shrugged. “Third-grade Bible Drill champ.”
Avra leaned toward her. “Do you get what Jesse said? God understands how you feel, carries your sorrows. Those wounds you look at every Sunday on Jesus’ body on the cross heal you.”
“Wow. Jesse told me to read the Bible, but I sure haven’t gotten to that part. I got stuck in the part about sacrificing cows and pouring their blood on the altar.”
Jesse laughed. “What? You’re not totally into blood and guts?”
She rolled her eyes, but inside something big was happening.
Palms waved in the night sky as Jesse found himself praying for the second time in a week. Jesus, please heal Kallie’s heart. Repair the damage her father did. Help her to accept Your forgiveness for the things she did to her father and his wife that cause her shame. Comfort her.
A cool wind blew through the palms. Avra shivered. “I’m ready for that ride home.” They stood and made their way down the bleachers.
Cisco kicked Jesse’s foot. “Your turn to shake out your issues.”
Right. Like he was going to bust out his Dad saga on the stadium steps just because the topic came up.
Avra headed for the backseat of Cisco’s car. She’d said she would ride home with him, but she didn’t want him to get his hopes up they’d get back together. It had felt so natural tonight—Cisco and Jesse offering a ride, Kallie spilling. If she wasn’t careful, she’d slip back into how they used to be.
But, thanks to Cisco’s betrayal, going back was no longer an option. Healing was happening, but she didn’t know if she could forgive him, much less trust him again.
She slid onto the backseat and caught Cisco’s disappointment—the same expression he’d tried to hide on Saturday whe
n she’d turned down his kiss. She needed to stay far, far away from his kisses.
Jesse slammed the car door. “You’re crazy.” He could nail Cisco about now. What good would regurgitating dad’s cruelty to Kallie and Avra do?
“I’m just sayin’ Kallie’s not the only one with unfinished dad business. She’s going to feel like a freak if she’s the only one who talks.” He winked at Kallie as she slid into the backseat beside Avra.
“Then, you talk,” Jesse said through his teeth.
“We’re working it out, man. Didn’t I tell you? I found out from the sisters that Mamá kicked Pops out.” He shook his head. “He never told me.” Cisco slammed the driver’s door. “So. You were the only hot-shot freshman on the varsity basketball team—”
“One trip to the DSC counselor and you’re a psych major?” Jesse said.
Cisco shot him a zip-it-or-you-die look. “You hate to talk about stuff, but it’s gonna make you feel better. Remember when you talked about—”
Tía. “I remember.”
Cisco started the car and spun gravel as he pulled out of the lot.
Jesse emptied his lungs. Cisco so owed him for this. “It was the middle of Daytona State basketball practice freshman year. I was running lines. Dad waved me off the court.” He stared at the windshield, almost feeling Kallie’s eyes bore into the back of his head.
He stepped back two years.
Struggling to slow his breathing, he grabbed the back of his sweaty neck and eyed his father. “What’s up?” Dad had never come to practice before.
His father flashed his basketball eligibility grade sheet in front of him.
Jesse glanced down the page—C’s, two.
Dad’s gaze pinned him to the floor.
Blood drained from his face. Every pair of eyes on the court drilled into his shoulder blades. What was Dad going to do—besides make a scene?
Coach walked up. They exchanged introductions. Coach crossed his arms, planted his feet, and waited.
“My boy’s grades are unacceptable, and I’m pulling him off the team.”
Coach’s brows hiked a fraction. “There must be some mistake. I checked all the boys’ grades last week. Nobody was ineligible.”
“I didn’t say they were unacceptable to you,” Dad said. “Grades have to come first. Jesse’s not going to play professional basketball, but he’ll use his education the rest of his life.”
Coach ran a hand over the slight stubble on his chin. “None of these boys will go pro, but Jesse’s a darn good ball player—”
“The decision is made. We appreciate all you’ve done for Jesse. Get your things, Son, you’re going home.”
Cisco pulled up to the curb in front of Avra’s house.
“That’s way harsh.” Kallie’s voice was rough with emotion. He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder.
“My brother Cal would have told Dad he’d play with or without Dad’s blessing. Sometimes I think that’s what I should have done. Instead, I’m still ripped. I haven’t had a real conversation with Dad since that day.”
“I’m so sorry, Jess,” Avra said.
Cisco hid a smug smile when he came around the car to where Jesse stood.
Avra faced him on the sidewalk. “I’ll pray—”
“Don’t waste your time. I’m not.” Jesse said.
Kallie shot him a grin. “I’m not feeling like a freak anymore. Thanks for dumping.”
“Anytime.”
Oh yeah? Cisco’s cocked brow said. Jesse smacked him in the stomach. Cisco laughed. “Night, Kal. Night, Avra—” He looked at Avra as if he wanted to say more, but instead, grabbed Jesse around the neck with the crook of his arm and wrestled him toward the car.
Jesse flipped around, grunted, and caught Cisco in a headlock. They were eleven again when life was simple. The girls laughed behind him, and he felt better than he had since things went south with Dad. Cisco piled into the car.
In the distance a train whistle blew. He stepped close to Kallie and her eyes widened. “I was delusional when I wrote Neon Green. I own that train wreck.”
Chapter 26
Kallie sat cross-legged on her bed with the gold embossed Bible that went with the encyclopedias they’d moved from Eucalyptus Lane to the Coconut Grove condo to New Smyrna Beach open in her lap.
Lamplight warmed the words Jesse had quoted earlier. Jesse. She’d process his apology later. One seismic shift at a time.
Rain pattered against the jalousies beside her.
She read the passage over and over, soaking it into her spirit. Jesus understood how she felt because He had been despised and rejected too. He carried her burlap sack of sorrows on His back. She didn’t need to lug it around anymore. I let go, God.
He let people hammer nails into His body, slice His side with a sword, suffocate Him on the cross for the things she did to Dad and Erika—and twenty-one years’ worth of sins—so she could have peace and healing. I want that. She ached to be connected to God the way Avra was.
She clicked off the lamp and watched the moon dance on her backyard jungle in the pelting rain. A sweet stillness filled her. Somewhere deeper than her emotions she heard God’s wordless, Come.
Yes.
Kallie jerked her gaze back from the rain-washed beach to Avra.
“You can’t decline,” Avra said. “It’s an honor to be chosen choir representative to the Fall Fling Court.”
It’s not like I have a chance of winning anyway. She lobbed a shell toward a mound of seaweed. “Don’t care. Don’t have a dress. Don’t have any money.”
“Olivia Marsden will take your place in a heartbeat.”
Point taken. Piano major Olivia already thought she owned the fast track to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. “Who would I ask to be my escort?”
“You could ask Kurt, but don’t break his heart.”
“Jesse.”
“Then you’ll break your own heart.”
Avra stepped out into the seven a.m. chill, her mind groggy, her heart at peace.
Cisco stood on the steps in baggy basketball shorts and a sweatshirt, holding a steaming McDonald’s cup. “I’m not going to ask you if you slept, sleepy face.” He nodded his head toward the car. “Come on.” He handed her the cup and stuck the ball under his arm.
She sipped the rich chocolate. “Thanks.” A few leaves blew down the street on a gust of damp, salty air. Her mind and body rebelled at the thought of going anywhere at this hour. She woke up by degrees as she nursed her cocoa.
A guy with sleep-rumpled hair and bare feet kissed a girl at the curb; she got in her car and drove away. That could have been her and Cisco. If Cisco had asked. She shuddered in spite of the warmth of her cocoa. For the first time, gratitude welled up in her that Cisco didn’t ask.
“Okay.” Cisco dropped the ball on the dew-whitened soccer field. “Show me your warm-ups.”
She rubbed her arms through her sweatshirt. “Aw, don’t make me do this.”
“You said I could plan this morning.”
She sighed and swiped at the condensation beaded on the goal post. She grabbed the post and held one foot in her hand behind her to stretch. He followed her through a half-hearted warm-up routine.
“That it?”
She nodded.
“Play ball!”
Morning people were truly obnoxious.
He dribbled the ball around her a couple times until she got annoyed enough to steal it.
“Half field!” Cisco took off after her. He caught up to her just as she positioned to shoot on goal. “Gotcha.” He carried the ball back to the middle of the field.
She kicked wet grass off her sneakers and waited for him to run back toward the goal. Boy, was he cocky. He charged her.
This was what she did best. Fully alert for the first time all morning, she waited for the precise moment to go for the ball. The rising sun warmed her back. A car engine revved.
He was close enough for her to see the pink in his cheeks, the confidence in
his eyes. Her foot shot out, kicking the ball out of his control. “Ha!” She sped after the ball.
As they played, the sun burned the dew off the grass. They tossed their sweatshirts onto the bleachers while two boys sailed their bikes into the sand at the end of the field. A man with an orange T-shirt stretched across a beer belly jogged along the street.
She lined up the last goal. Before she could shoot, Cisco tackled her. He took the impact, and the next thing she knew, damp grass cooled the warm skin on her back, arms, and neck. “Hey, no fair!” She breathed hard.
Cisco’s arm lay across her waist. Grass peppered his hair; sweat slicked his face and neck.
Cisco smirked at her. “Sore loser.” He sat up and leaned over her. “Little Avra has a competitive streak. Maybe we’ll play something more intellectual—you know—more your speed, next time.”
“The tackle was no fair.” She shoved him away.
His heart beat under her palm. “The tackle was just for fun.”
She sucked in a calming breath.
Cisco locked his fingers under his head and lay back on the grass. He gazed at the sky.
The wet armpits of his T-shirt were exposed. Damp skin shined beneath the curling hair on his legs—and he had never looked better.
Cisco pointed up. “It’s a Fiat.”
“What’s a Fiat?”
“A car, silly.” He raised his head. “You can’t see it from that angle. You have to roll over here.”
She scooted closer. The smell of cut grass and sunshine hung in the air. The rhythmic sound of Cisco’s breathing filled the silence. Her eyes slipped shut as she listened.
“You’re not going to sleep are you? Find a car.”
She opened her eyes and pointed at a cloud. “Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang.”
“How about a Volkswagen?”
Instantly, she remembered the Love Bug from the day she told Cisco she’d go out with him. “So, that’s what we’re doing—re-creating the day I told you I’d go out with you.” She rolled onto her stomach to look at him.
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