I grinned. “It doesn't have to be that way. It could be three against none.”
He chuckled and gave in. “Alright. You can go.”
I clapped my hands and squealed like a little girl. I immediately jumped out of my seat to head towards my room to make a list of what I should pack. I yelled, “Thank you,” as I made my way upstairs.
“When do you leave?” I heard him call back, but I didn't answer. I was too busy trying to think about what I was going to take.
***
After dinner the next night, I packed jeans, shirts and a sweater, along with some socks and everything else I thought I would need for a weekend in the woods. I was worried and excited all at once. I was worried because of my lack of camping experience and the fact that I would be surrounded by those damn McGuire boys, but I was also excited to try something new. As I started to zip up my bag, my phone beeped, notifying me that I had a text. I reached over to the side of my bag to see the glow of Raina's name.
How in the world did she even have my number?
Raina Da Boss: Hey girl, so can you come this weekend?
After I chuckled at her name and the hashtag she had set up for her phone, I scrunched up my brows in confusion. Again, how did she get my number? Brady had given me the phone when we’d gotten into town. Before I could refuse, he had told me it was for emergencies, and that it was a teenager’s ‘rite of passage.’ I had given in and told myself I would only use it sparingly. I hadn't given out my number, not wanting to run up his phone bill, so seeing Raina's message on my phone, and her in my contact list, I was stupefied.
Daniels: How did you get my number? #I've-been-hacked
When I saw my own hashtag, I laughed. The little stinker! She’d hacked me!
Raina Da Boss: Like your tag? Lol. You slept or sleep-walked while Wendy hacked your phone, and entered in all our numbers while we pinched yours. Tyler did warn you about her nosey ways, right?
I shook my head.
Daniels: Yes, Tyler did warn me, and I've should have known better. In the future, I will keep my phone hidden. I guess I don't have to ask who's number one.... #I've-been-hacked
Raina Da Boss: :) Got to keep my rank or these brothers of mine will walk all over me. So can you go?
Daniels: Yeah, but there are some stipulations. #I've-been-hacked
Raina Da Boss: What kind?
Daniels: Because I sleepwalk, they want me to safety pin the tent zipper so I can’t get out. #I've-been-hacked
I held onto my phone and waited, and waited for her to text back.
Raina Da Boss: That sounds reasonable. It won't matter anyways. Wendy and I will keep you from going anywhere.
So that's who I would be staying with.
Daniels: Is there anything that I require specifically, and how do I stop all the hash tagging? #I've-been-hacked
Raina Da Boss: No. We have an extra sleeping bag for you, and we have all the bug spray. You really just need your tennis shoes, a couple changes of clothes, maybe your pillow and an extra blanket. We have food covered, and I guess you need safety pins too. And the hashtag? You snooze, you lose.
Daniels: *Rolls eyes* I'll just ask one of your brothers. See you tomorrow. #I've-been-hacked
I pocketed my phone and put my bag over my shoulder to take it downstairs and store it by the door, ready for tomorrow. I also needed to grab an extra blanket.
“So I guess you're excited,” Brady mused as he saw me putting my stuff by the front door. He was leaning against a post at the bottom of the stairs with his arms folded, giving me an amused look. My phone dinged, but I ignored it as I shrugged, dismissing Brady's observation.
“Yeah, you know, I'm kind of excited,” I said, playing it down.
His lips twitched, and his eyes crinkled. “Could have fooled me,” he stated, not believing my down-play.
“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Maybe I am a little bit excited.”
He smiled “I'm glad, Daniels. I'm glad that you're finally making some friends and fighting for everything you deserve.”
I was taken aback by his words. “What happened to me affects everything. I don't deserve anything more than the next person, Brady. I just want to live and not be reminded of the past.”
He put his hands up in a soothing gesture, “Hey, hey now, I didn't mean anything by it. You don't have to get so defensive. I'm on your side. I want you to live, Daniels. I didn't mean for you to take it the wrong way. It's just nice to see you making friends and getting back into the world. What happened to you was horrific, and Sarah and I wanted more for you. I could see that you were drowning in those foster homes,” he said as he walked towards me. “I could see that you needed to get away from there. That you couldn't live in that same town. Seeing the same streets, the same school, seeing your family everywhere. I didn't want you to forget about them,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I just wanted to take you away from the hurt, have a chance at a normal life. To be a kid. A teen,” he exclaimed, his eyes holding nothing but compassion and worry.
It made me uncomfortable. His worry. I knew he cared, but to hear him talk about what he’d seen—what I was going through every day and how spot on he was—it was disconcerting. He was right; I had needed to break away from all those memories. It was suffocating to be reminded of it every day. He and his wife had given me the opportunity.
I cleared my throat and patted the hand on my shoulder, “Yeah, you're right. I did need to get away. Thank you.”
He dropped his hand from my shoulder and stepped back. “Besides the sleepwalking, are you having any more nightmares?” He looked at me carefully and waited.
It was his ‘Cop Stare Down’.
I hesitated, then shrugged. “I might have one every once in a while,” I confessed, a half-truth. “But they're not nearly as bad as before.”
Brady nodded. “Do you think you need to talk to somebody? I know you were seeing someone before...”
I shook my head, cutting him off. “I don't need to talk to anyone. I’ve talked to every therapist under the sun about my problems, and not one person, not one therapist, has been able to fix me. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be fixed. Maybe I was never supposed to remember. And honestly, Brady, I don't want to remember.”
“So what are your nightmares about then, Daniels? Do you remember anything else? About that night?”
I pursed my lips and looked down to stare at his shoes. Used to only giving an inch when it came to these types of conversation, I felt as though was giving a mountain. “Remember something more about what? I told the police everything.”
I did remember something more, but it wasn't about my parents’ murder. It was something from before.
Did Brady not believe me when I said that I had told the police the truth? That I didn't kill my father? Or was he asking if I knew who did?
I cleared my throat, taking in the black shine of his shoes. “I don't remember anything else, but like I was saying, I knew what the argument was about.”
“What was it about?”
“It was about my brother. It was always about my brother," I murmured as anguish filled my soul.
“Your brother?” he questioned, surprised. “You have a brother?”
“Had,” I answered as I lifted my eyes up to his, curious that he hadn’t already known.
“I had no idea.”
“He got in a car accident.”
Brady nodded slowly, “When?”
“A couple years before.”
“So they were arguing about your brother,” he repeated, trying to connect the dots.
“Yeah, anyways, looking back at it now...” I sighed. I was still scared about the past. About letting my brother go and not telling Brady about him. I was used to just squashing my guilt down into my chest. “Looking back at it now,” I repeated. “Things are a little bit clearer. My father telling my mother it was her fault, but it wasn't really.”
“That what wasn't-”
“My br
other's death. It was mine," I finally confessed.
Chapter 12
“Your fault?” he asked incredulously. “Were you in the car with him? What happened?”
I shook my head. “No. I wasn't in the car with him, but I could have prevented it," I breathed out, as the anguish in my heart swelled.
“Honey,” Brady soothed as he came near me. He stopped near me as I started backing up. “It's not your fault. You weren't in the car. How could his accident be your fault, honey? What happened to make you think that?”
I hung my head. “He went out that night. He wasn't supposed to go but he had promised his girlfriend. I wanted him to stay home. He ended up sneaking out, and I could have stopped him. I could have-” I took a shaky breath, “I could have told my mom that he was going out, but I didn't. I caught him, and he told me not to tell. He made me pinky swear.”
“I'm so sorry, honey.” This time when Brady reached for me, I didn't shift away. “It wasn't your fault. Sometimes we wish we could have done things differently, but it wasn't your choice to have that happen to him. It wasn't you. You're not the reason he got killed. It was whoever hit him. They’re the reason he died," I cried into Brady's chest, knowing it was true, but his answer had brought on another wave of guilt.
“I should have made him stay,” I told him as I tried to block out everything. I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I should have made him stay. If I had made him stay, he wouldn't have gotten killed, and my parents wouldn't have gotten the way they were. We were all happy once, before everything. If he hadn't gotten killed, my parents wouldn't have turned on each other. Blaming one another.”
I pulled back, wiped my tears away and hardened my feelings. “This is why I don't get close to people. I blame myself. Logically, I know, I shouldn't, but sometimes the guilt creeps up on me, and I can't help but feel responsible.”
Brady ran his hand through his hair and let out an audible breath. “You were young and impressionable. Your brother had no right to try to extract a promise from you like that.” He again ran his hand through his hair. “I'm not sure this camping trip is a good idea right now with you being so emotional.”
I straightened my spine and let the anger come over me. “I am going, Brady. Don't take this experience away from me. I want to go on this camping trip. I want to have fun. I promise not to drink or worry about the past.”
He glanced at me, “But you still think it's your fault?” he asked me in disbelief.
“Ye-”
“No. You listen to me, little girl,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “That car crash was not your fault! I don't care what anyone tells you, and what you tell yourself in that little mind of yours—it was not your fault! If you can't believe in that, then trust me. Do you think I would ever lie to you, Faith?”
I shook my head.
“Then believe me when I say you are not to blame.”
“Ok.”
“I am still responsible for you until you turn eighteen, and I am telling you, right now, that I don't like the emotional state that you're in.”
I was frustrated. “Please?”
He sighed, thinking. “I don't know,” he said, shaking his head. He glanced over to me with a serious face and asked, “Are you suicidal?”
I squinted my eyes and gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me that question? You do not ask a person if they're suicidal," I spluttered.
“Well, how else am I going to know?” Brady reasoned.
I glared at him. “I'm not suicidal, Brady. Never have been, never will be. You want to know why?”
“Why?” he said, frowning.
“Because I'm scared of death. It terrifies me.”
Brady let out an audible grunt of relief and nodded. “Ok. Alright, but you tell me the moment, and I mean it, Faith, the moment you start to feel depressed. I want to know if anything starts to make you feel as though leaving is the better option.”
A smile spilled out across my face. “Deal.”
Brady placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me towards the kitchen. “Starting now. We're going to have some hot chocolate and cookies. I know my wife has some hidden around here somewhere, and we're going to talk.”
“I thought we already did that?”
“We're going to talk about the here and now, Daniels. What's going on with you right at this moment.”
“There's really nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, there is," he said, as he pushed me across the threshold into the kitchen, switching on the light.
I heard the padded feet of HotShot not far behind us. “We're going to talk about the McGuire boys and how much they have been taking up your time.”
I groaned. Noooo... This was going to be so awkward. Where was Sarah when you needed her?
***
After Brady and I had our short talk, and I evaded every one of his questions, I made my way up the stairs. How had today ended up being so emotional? I felt a wisp of air before HotShot darted past into my room. I huffed when I found him in the same place he was yesterday, lying comfortably across the end of my bed with no intention of moving. Unlike last night, I welcomed his presence. With him here, I wasn't alone.
I was kind of shocked that I had told Brady about my brother and how I felt. Even though I hated what had become of my family, I missed them. I missed how we’d been before everything had happened. I missed my brother’s crazy, crazy ideas, and I miss my mom's warm hugs. I need to hold onto those memories. I need to remember the good, and try to forget how they had become. To let go of the guilt, of my shame.
I snuggled into bed with my heart a little lighter. I did believe Brady. I didn't think he would ever lie to me, saying that it wasn't my fault, and thankfully, it gave me a sense of peace. Even though I knew he hadn’t been there when everything had happened, explaining it to him and going back through my memories, I had realized that it wasn't my fault, and I should let it go.
Let go of the guilt over my brother and the hatred towards my father. I went to sleep that night content and happy for the first time in a long time. I was excited about tomorrow, and I was anticipating what kind of adventures we would have.
I woke up the next morning with HotShot gone, but I knew he stayed with me. I hurried and got myself dressed and grabbed a sweater, since it was getting colder outside with each day that passed. I took my phone off the charger and opened my messages, looking for the forgotten text from Raina. Glancing at the top of the screen though, made me realize that I only had thirty minutes to get ready before they came knocking.
I hurried downstairs and into the kitchen to find Brady at the kitchen table drinking his coffee with HotShot by his feet and Sarah cooking at the stove. It was the same every morning, and I was content. This is how I imagined mornings with a family should be, and I hoped that this is how it was always going to be.
They were my family. Even though we had come together in an unusual way, they were going to be there for me. They weren't going anywhere, and neither was I.
I smiled as I took my usual place at the table and added some French toast to my plate, drowning it in syrup. Orange juice went into a cup, and I tried to gobble down as much as I could before anyone showed up. I didn't want to be left behind.
Sarah sat down and paused mid-reach for the orange juice when she noticed my exploding cheeks. “What on earth. Faith?!” she exclaimed, glancing down towards my plate. “It’s not a race, you know.”
I swallowed my mouthful and smiled sheepishly. “I have thirty minutes till they get here. I just don't want to be late. I don't want them to leave me.”
“They're not going to leave you,” Brady said, snorting. “The McGuire boys wouldn't dare let Raina leave you. You have them wrapped around your pinky.”
I rolled my eyes, dismissing him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Brady nodded towards me as he took another sip of his coffee, “You know what I'm talking about. I see it with the three of them. I don't kn
ow what you did, but they trail after you like little, lost puppies.”
I blushed. “I'm just a new toy to them. It will pass.”
He gave me a pointed look. “Uh-huh.”
I scrunched up my nose at him. “Let's talk about something else.” I was embarrassed by the accurate observation.
“So, do you have everything you need?” Sarah inquired, as she put powdered sugar on her French toast and lightly drizzled syrup on top.
I nodded as I took another bite of my food. “Yep, I’ve got everything. It’s by the door.”
“Do you need any money?” Brady spoke up.
I turned to him as I shook my head. “No. Raina said that they'd cover it.”
“Well,” Brady said as he shifted and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out two twenties. “I still want you to be covered,” he said, handing the money over, his eyes stern. I knew he would not allow any argument to sway him, so I took the money with an awkward thank you.
I pulled out my own wallet to slide the money inside. The notes pocket was stuffed full from all of the money that Sarah had given to me. The guys had taken care of my meals, so I had a nice little stash that I wasn't sure what I was going to with.
At least I had it for emergency purposes.
“Have you thought about what you're going to do for your birthday next week?” Sarah asked with a secret smile as she took a sip of her orange juice. “It's the big One-Seven.”
I looked down at HotShot, smiling when he lifted his head. He tilted his head to the side, almost as if he was asking, ‘What?’
I glanced back up at Sarah and shrugged. “Seventeen is not big by any means.” I grabbed a piece of my bacon and took a small bite as Sarah went on about how seventeen was a milestone and I should be excited about it. I just gave her what she wanted and grunted in agreement, not really paying attention, as I slipped my bacon under the table and tapped it against my leg feeling it disappear from between my fingertips. I couldn't help it. I grinned while I listened to her talk.
Sarah was now smiling with me, getting all animated about whatever it was she was going on about. I glance over to Brady, who was now reading his newspaper. My happiness going south with what I heard next.
Love Is Not Lost Page 7