Juniper Limits (The Juniper Series Book 2)

by Lora Richardson

“What do you mean they aren’t there?”

  “Your mom and I were sitting out back, and the boys were in the living room watching a movie. When we came in, they were gone.”

  “They’re missing?” I scrambled to my feet, and Paul and Esta copied me.

  “Who’s missing?” Paul asked Malcolm.

  “Abe and Jeremy.” Malcolm’s jaw clenched tight.

  “I’m sure they’re okay. They run around town by themselves all the time, right?” Olive said.

  “Not at night and not without telling someone where they’re going.” Of course Olive wouldn’t think it was a big deal. Fay was raised without rules. “Where’s Mom?”

  A pause. “She went to your house. She thought maybe they went to get something of Abe’s to bring back.”

  She went to make sure Abe wasn’t with Dad. I handed the phone back to Fay and looked at my friends. They all stood ready to help me, whatever I needed. It was probably terrible to be my friend—constantly dealing with my drama. I hated to ask for help, but I needed it. “Can someone drive me?”

  “On it,” Malcolm said. Paul hung his head, and I knew he was feeling helpless over his lack of a vehicle.

  “We’ll all go. We’ll split up and find them in no time,” Fay said.

  My stomach was tied in knots as we all rushed past my party. I hoped my mom wouldn’t be the one to find him.

  31

  Abe crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “I don’t see what the big deal is. You sneak out all the time, and I know you’ve had beer.”

  “Not when I was twelve years old!” Celia said through her teeth.

  “I am almost thirteen,” Abe spat. “And stop yelling at me.” He glanced over at Jeremy, who looked very uncomfortable.

  “I’m not yelling at you. I’m lecturing you.”

  Malcolm had dropped Paul and Celia off on the east side of town, to search the area on foot. Fay and Malcolm were heading to Malcolm’s old cabin, and Esta was going to check at Jeremy’s house. But it was Celia who found the boys, in the parking lot of the abandoned video store.

  The whole east side of town didn’t have much life to it anymore. Most of the businesses were abandoned and the grass was overgrown. When they came upon the small crowd in the parking lot, Paul had told Celia just to walk on by; there was no way the boys would be there. But she had paused to scan the bodies leaning against cars, and there they were. They’d been surrounded by older kids—some high schoolers but also some people who graduated in the last year or two—who were drinking and smoking weed and ready to flee the minute the town cop came around on patrol.

  “It was my idea,” Jeremy said, eyes focused at the ground.

  “It was not,” Abe said. “It was my idea, Celia. He’s just trying to keep me from getting in trouble.”

  Celia sighed. “You can’t hang out there. Not even I hang out there. What were you thinking, drinking that beer?”

  “You want to know what I was thinking? I wanted to see what the big deal was. Why Dad always chooses that over us,” Abe muttered.

  Celia sucked in a breath, and her face went pale. They all walked in silence for a while. It wasn’t going to be a short walk back to Fay’s. Celia had used Paul’s phone to call the others while Paul extracted the boys from the group. He had been shocked to see the can in Abe’s hand, the smell of beer on both boys’ breath. They claimed they only split one between them.

  “I should have stayed at Fay’s. I shouldn’t have left you.” Celia sniffed, and her voice was thin.

  “I don’t need a body guard, Celia. I’m not a little kid anymore. And the whole point was sneaking out. Even if you’d been there I’d still have done it.”

  “No you wouldn’t. I would have noticed.”

  They stopped walking. Paul debated whether he should take Jeremy on ahead and give them some privacy for their argument. They meandered a little ways ahead, but stopped where they could still hear what was going on.

  “I just want to be left alone!” Abe’s face was red.

  “No you don’t. You think I don’t understand? You think I don’t know what it feels like to need to get away? To try to make your life different somehow? In any way you can? I know the whole point is to get someone to notice. Well, I’m noticing, Abe!” Celia was full-on crying now.

  “I never asked you to.” Abe’s tears arrived only a moment after hers.

  “You shouldn’t have to ask to be noticed. We’re family.”

  “Some family.”

  Paul had never seen Abe so angry. He couldn’t say it surprised him. It was more surprising he managed to keep his cheerful spirit the way he usually did.

  Abe started walking again, and when he reached Paul and Jeremy, he and Jeremy walked together at a quicker pace. Paul hung back and waited for Celia to catch up. The boys were a block ahead now. “Do you think they’ll take off?” he asked.

  “No. He’s just embarrassed Jeremy saw all that.” She was still crying a little. Paul reached over and caught her hand in his. “He’s not okay, Paul.”

  “He will be. Just like you, he will be.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not so sure. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight. I should have been with him.”

  “You can’t be with him all the time, Celia. And even if you could, you can’t control him.”

  “But the way I felt tonight, when nobody knew where he was, I thought I was going to die, Paul. It was so scary.”

  “It was scary, but he’s fine.”

  “But I’m not. I can’t take it. Not knowing if he’s okay…what if he does this again?”

  Paul began to feel restless; a jittery unease wound its way through his body.

  “Do you remember that night we stole the boat?” Celia asked.

  He smiled, trying to take the moment back to something he understood. “We only borrowed it.”

  She stopped walking and faced him, a wall behind her eyes. “That night I told you I was trying to change things, for myself and for Abe. I should have done better. I haven’t been spending enough time with Abe and I let myself think things were only going to keep getting better. I tricked myself into thinking I could have what I wanted.”

  “I don’t understand.” Paul’s hands shook, and he let go of hers so she wouldn’t notice.

  “Pretending I have a normal life got Abe hurt. He was drinking tonight, Paul! At twelve years old. I have to get him through the next five years. I need to work more hours and earn more money so I can help my mom pay for school or an apartment or something. I need to figure out what to do about my dad. My life is a mess.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “I won’t ask you to do that.”

  “I offered.” He ran his hands roughly through his hair.

  “I don’t want to need help, Paul.” Her voice cracked.

  “We all need help sometimes.” He took a step toward her and reached out to close her in a hug, but she stepped back.

  She crossed her arms around her stomach. “I need more than my fair share. And it’s not fair to you. I take and I take and I take from you. You spend all your time pulling me out of disasters. You deserve better. You should get to be happy, and all I bring is trouble.”

  Paul felt numb. “That’s not true. I am happy with you.”

  “My life drags you down.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. And it isn’t right. You were the happiest, most relaxed person before. Now you’re always worried about me.”

  He stopped and pulled her down to the sidewalk. His hands trembled violently now, and his eyes were burning with tears but he didn’t try to hide it. He shook his head fervently, trying to make her know it didn’t matter. “I’m always going to worry about you. That’s part of caring about someone.”

  Tears dripped down her cheeks, one right after the other. He watched them fall. “A regular amount of worry, sure. But this is constant, and it isn’t going to stop any time soon. I can’t enjoy parties, I can’t relax, I can’t lay around and kiss
you and just forget that the rest of my life is a mess. I’m drowning and I can’t keep asking you to toss me life preservers. I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t keep seeing your face upset and knowing it’s my fault.”

  “Celia, my life is better with you in it.” He was begging, and he didn’t care.

  She sucked in her bottom lip and was quiet a long moment, and when she spoke, her voice was strong. “You said you’re my friend first. You said you could do that.”

  Paul swallowed thickly, and it took a moment before he could speak. “I can do that.”

  She put her face in her hands and spoke through thick tears. “I’m sorry. It isn’t right for me to keep pulling you under, and I’m sorry. I just need some time to figure this out. I can’t be a good girlfriend right now.”

  It was an echo of the apology she’d given him as she rested her head on his chest outside his window last night. He’d suspected this was coming—had known from the moment she pushed him away at her locker the day after her dad hit her brother. Knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less. “Celia, we’re just pushing pause. We’re not hitting stop.” He needed her to agree to that.

  She looked up at the sky, tears still brimming over.

  “I mean it. This is not about you and me. This is about timing. It’s about life getting in our way. Let’s just push pause.”

  She didn’t answer, and in her silence he heard what he wanted to hear. He put his arms around her and put his forehead against hers, and they sat like that for a long time. They sat like that until her tears ran dry and until his shaking subsided, and then he walked her home.

  32

  Abe refused to sleep in my room. I pulled the quilt over my body, my eyes wide in the dark nothingness of my room. My hollow heart thumped in my chest. The house was cold. Mom didn’t want to turn on the furnace yet.

  I’d done the right thing. Paul deserved a life where he wasn’t constantly embroiled in my chaos. He did not deserve for my father to be angry at him, which was only a matter of time, or to have to pull my brother out of dangerous situations, or to spend hours upon hours trying to convince me I was worth more than the crappy life I’d been dealt. I had to do those things on my own.

  More than that, tonight showed me that Paul loved me enough to do whatever he thought I needed. I felt certain that would extend to staying here in Juniper in order to watch over me, or help me manage things, or console me whenever I was upset. Which, I had to face it, was basically all the time. He needed to be able to get out. To get away from his own troubles and start a new, better life for himself. He couldn’t do that if he was tied to me. My body wanted me to cry. Tears sat right there, just within reach. I denied them.

  A soft tapping sounded on my window. Figuring it was Fay coming to check on me, I slipped out of bed and opened the shade. It was Paul’s face behind the glass, lit up with a flashlight.

  I unlocked the window and lifted it. Cool night air blew in. “Are you okay?” I asked, breathless with worry.

  He smiled at me, and then he reached down into a box at his feet and lifted Osa out of it. “You left your present behind. I thought you might want her tonight.”

  The kitten was cradled in his large hands, his long fingers wrapped around her tiny body. I had no power over my tears this time, and I reached for her. My fingers covered his as we transferred the kitten from his palms to mine. I held them there for an extra second, hoping he would feel my sorrow.

  I clutched Osa to my chest, as he passed in the other supplies. I set them on the floor and turned back to lean out the window. “Thank you, Paulie.”

  Hands in the pockets of his jacket, he leaned up and pressed his lips to my forehead. “That’s what friends are for. Goodnight, Celia.”

  I watched as he disappeared into the darkness, and then I went to my bed. I covered myself with my quilt again. I put Osa by my hip, but she wandered up higher, turned a few circles and made a few biscuits before settling down beside my heart. I tipped my head down and cried into her fur, and let her warm little body lull me to sleep.

  33

  Paul squeezed his phone in his hand as he put it to his ear. He stepped out of his mom’s room into the hallway. “Hello?”

  “Hey, did you get your letter?” Malcolm’s voice rang with tense excitement.

  “Yeah. I got it.” He took a deep breath, trying to switch gears. An hour ago, Paul had opened his mailbox to find his acceptance for early admission to IU. He wasn’t sure how he managed it, but holding that envelope in his hand had been amazing—until he walked into his house.

  Malcolm released a huge breath. “Thank God. I was afraid to call you and tell you, in case you didn’t get one, too. Why didn’t you call me?”

  Paul glanced into his mom’s bedroom, where she lay curled in a ball on top of her covers, crying with the pillow wrapped around her head. “Same reason, I guess.” He heard how he sounded morose, and forced a change of tone so Malcolm wouldn’t suspect anything. “We all knew it was a sure thing for me, but it was a long shot for you. I didn’t want to rub your nose in it.”

  Malcolm laughed, and Paul’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “I think I’ve picked which dorm we should stay in. What do you think about Wright Quad?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t thought much about it. It’s still pretty far away.”

  Malcolm sighed. “In some ways it feels like it’s coming up too soon.”

  He was thinking about Fay. Paul knew they’d make it work; he didn’t have any doubt of that. He leaned his head against his mom’s door frame. “I better go. Things are a little crazy around here.”

  “Yeah, I bet your mom is so happy. Mine wants to throw us a party.”

  Paul blinked, the roaring starting up in his ears again. He rubbed his thumb across his brow. “Yeah, sounds great. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He tucked his phone in his back pocket and ran his hands through his hair. He’d just learned his mom had been fired again. Apparently she’d messed up the billing in a spectacular way. Paul didn’t have it in him to be shocked.

  He walked back into her room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He sat silently for a while, his eyes traveling over her things. On her dresser was a picture from his parents’ wedding day. He wanted to throw it in the trash.

  His mom reached out her hand and rested it on his lower back. “You’re angry with me.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow.

  Paul sighed. “I’m not angry.”

  A moment passed. She poked her head out from the pillow. “That’s almost worse, Paulie. You should be angry.”

  “Well, I’m not.” There was no point to anger. What they needed was money. He thought about his college savings. Between him and his mom, they’d managed to put almost a thousand dollars in there. Maybe he’d use that money to get a truck so he could drive to work somewhere. He was sick of relying on Malcolm to take him places. He could get a job in Bakerstown for the winter. Shoveling driveways wasn’t going to cut it.

  It didn’t matter if he used up his college fund. There was no way they’d be able to afford school now, even if he got a big loan. He’d need to help pay the bills until she found another job, and frankly that may not happen. She was deteriorating faster than ever the last couple of weeks.

  He could get a job at Dearing Plastics when he graduated next spring. At least there he’d make enough money to support both of them, and could even save some money while he figured things out.

  “Mom? Have you thought again about seeing a doctor for some help?”

  She sighed a long-suffering sigh. “It’s the doctor who says I need these pills. You know I need them.”

  “I know.” It wasn’t worth arguing.

  “I can’t work without them,” she said, continuing trying to convince him in spite of the fact that he’d already given up. He didn’t used to give up so easily.

  “Just get some rest, Mom. I’ll make something for dinner.”

  “Will you bring me a cold, wet was
hcloth first? My head is pounding.”

  He went into her bathroom and pulled open the drawer where she kept her washcloths. It was empty, and he muttered a curse under his breath. The laundry was piling up. He opened the next drawer down, hoping there might be a rogue washcloth in there.

  But it wasn’t washcloths or lotion or extra soap in the drawer. He drew in a sharp breath and his vision swam. He rocked back on his heels and put his hands over his eyes, trying to unsee the baggie full of white oval pills.

  In a flash of anger, he grabbed the baggie in his fist and stormed to his mom’s bedside and ripped the pillow from her head. “I’m angry, now, Mom. What are these?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  She slowly closed her eyes.

  “Tell me.”

  She shook her head from side to side, eyes still closed.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter because I’m going to flush them.” He turned toward the bathroom.

  She shrieked and jumped up, grabbing him by the elbow. “Don’t flush them!” He raised his arm to keep her from reaching the pills.

  “What are they?” Paul shouted, as his mom lunged for the bag again. He took a step toward the bathroom and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Paul, I’m your mother and I’m ordering you to hand them over!”

  He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “What. Are. They.”

  She let go of him and sunk to the floor. He stood above her, chest heaving. She cried quietly for a moment, then whispered, “Hydrocodone.”

  He breathed out slowly through his nose. “Did you take them from the dentist’s office?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Is this the real reason you got fired?”

  A nod.

  “How did you get them?”

  “Stop asking me questions!” She scraped her fingers down her neck, leaving red streaks on her skin.

  He squeezed the baggie in his hands, wanting to crush the pills into bits, and stalked to his room, slamming the door.

  He dropped his body onto his bed and pulled out his phone to do a search on Hydrocodone. Narcotic. Opioid. Addictive. Not to be mixed with sedatives. This was just fantastic. His anger fell away and despair took its place. A little fear arrived when he wondered if she’d done anything that might cause Dr. Shepherd to press charges.