Songbird

by Fristoe, Angela

  “Well, he doesn't sit with us for lunch anymore. He's been missing his first morning class and Trace said he quit the football team this morning.”

  “What?” I couldn't believe he'd quit the team.

  “Yeah, he just told the coach he had too much going on. So, Trace thought you might be able to talk some sense into him. Reece is one of the best players, and they've got some big games coming up.”

  “I'm sorry, Jenn. I know he's working through some stuff at home, but it's not my place to say.”

  “I understand. Thanks anyways,” she said, then went back to her table.

  “Are you going to talk to him?” Colin asked.

  “About rejoining the team? No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Reece isn't a little boy who quit just because he's busy. He loves football and he'd only quit if he absolutely had to.”

  “So, what made him have to quit?”

  “I don't know exactly, but I'm going to find out.” I stood up, and left Colin and my uneaten lunch behind me. I needed to find Reece.

  When I finally found him, he was sitting outside on the bench. The same bench we'd kissed on only a few weeks ago.

  “Hi,” I said, wishing I knew what I wanted to say. Why was it suddenly so hard to talk to him?

  “Did Trace send you to talk to me? No? Then maybe Jenn?”

  “Nobody sent me to talk to you. I came because I wanted to.” I sat beside him, clasping my hands nervously in my lap. I ached to reach out to him, to hold his hand, but I'd lost that right and, considering what happened the last time I tried to comfort him, I thought it best to keep my hands to myself. “How's Gregg?”

  He leaned back dropping his head over the edge of the bench to stare at the cloudless sky. “He's alive.”

  “Have they given him a prognosis?”

  “He's got a forty percent chance of surviving another five years. He just doesn't seem to want to live. It's like he's already given up. They started the chemo last week, so he hasn't been able to go home. Even if he could, I wouldn't be able to take care of him by myself.”

  “What do you mean by yourself? What about your parents?”

  “Mom came home for a couple days, then split. Dad is still in New York.”

  “Is it okay for me to say I hate your parents?” Anger for the Tylers burned in my chest. I wanted to call them up and scream and shout. To make them realize what they were doing to their sons.

  “I do.”

  He said the words, but I knew he didn't mean them. He had always strived to make them proud, to make them notice him. You didn't do that unless you loved someone.

  “The chemo is really hitting him hard.” He ran his hand along his shiny head. “Yesterday his hair started falling out. Not just strands, but chunks. He freaked and they had to sedate him.”

  I swallowed the thick lump in my throat, a combination of sympathy and shame. I had let him go through this alone. What kind of a person, a friend, was I to have told him I needed space?

  “Reece, I'm sorry. I should have been here for you. I just...” There was no excuse I could give except the simplest explanation. “I was being selfish. I wanted something from you, and when I didn't get what I wanted, I bailed. You would never have done that to me.”

  I finally reached over and took his hand, squeezing it tightly, hoping that I hadn't destroyed everything.

  He looked at me and for once in the past two weeks, I swear his face relaxed, brightening in relief. “What I said that day...”

  “Don't. Let's just put it behind us, at least for now. You need to concentrate on Gregg, and I...” My unfinished sentence hung between us. The worst thing I had going on was some stupid prank calls.

  “And you have Colin.” He glanced away from me, dropping my hand.

  “No! I mean, he's a friend yes, but that's it.” No way was I going to tell him about the whole birthday surprise or the kiss. Especially the kiss.

  He shrugged his shoulder, but still wouldn't look at me. Did he really not care? I wanted to believe he did, but that put me right back to where I was before Homecoming, and it was a place I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to go back to.

  I didn't want to talk about Colin anymore. He was the reason behind our last fight and I didn't want that to happen again. I needed to somehow get them to at least tolerate each other, but until that happened, I wouldn’t flaunt my friendship with Colin. Reece had enough to deal with.

  “What are you doing Thursday? You can come over for Thanksgiving dinner.” I remembered a minute too late that Colin was already coming, but maybe that would be a good time for them to get to know each other.

  “Thanks, but I'm going to go to the hospital. I don't want Gregg to be alone.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, you can always stop by.”

  He smiled and I felt our friendship tie itself back together. The bonds were still brittle, but they were there and I was determined not to rip them apart again. We walked to the door side by side, like we used to and I could almost believe that nothing had changed.

  Before I could open the door, his hand stopped me. He turned me and wrapped me in a hug. He gripped me so tightly I struggled to breathe until he relaxed his arms.

  His forehead pressed to mine and our eyes met. The distance between us was non-existent. Everything that had happened, the harsh words we'd said, disappeared. Our breath mingled and I was sure he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. I let my eyes drift closed, waiting for the touch of his lips to mine. It never came. Instead, his lips pressed to my forehead, lingering a moment before he pulled back.

  “I've missed you,” he whispered.

  “I missed you, too.” I lifted a hand to smooth it over his baldhead. “I'm gonna miss your hair almost as much. Good thing you have a nice head.”

  We shared a laugh and inevitably drew apart. It was a silent agreement to leave 'us' well enough alone.

  Lunch was over by the time we made it back inside and class had been in session for almost ten minutes. We took off in our separate directions, and as I watched his back disappear down the empty hall, I felt peace for the first time in weeks.

  That evening and the next, the strange calls disturbed my new inner peace. Three of them the first night and two the following. Each one was the same as those before. All they said was my name and then hung up. Wednesday, I tossed and turned all night, only to fall asleep as the sun broke through the small opening in my curtains.

  Martha woke me just as my sleep cycle deepened and forced me to drag my cranky self downstairs to help with the preparations for Thanksgiving dinner. I entered the kitchen and was presented with sacks of potatoes and carrots I needed to peel, rinse, cut, and soak. I didn't understand why she always cooked so much for only the three of us, well, four of us this year, but there was no way I was going to question her. Not when she held a very sharp knife.

  Three hours passed before I was allowed to leave the kitchen to use the bathroom. I used my break to shower and brush my teeth, knowing that if I didn't do it then, I ran the risk of disrupting her schedule when everything was on the stove and she was at her most stressed. I'd been worried about dwelling on the calls or on what Reece was going through, but Martha was in her power zone and I was her slave, and thinking about anything other than how thick to slice the carrots wasn't safe.

  Colin arrived at the start of the football game, and if I thought I'd get a reprieve from kitchen slavery, I was wrong. He settled himself on the couch with Paul, leaving me a victim of Martha's obsession.

  By the time we sat down to eat, I was exhausted. Lack of sleep combined with Martha's endless list of things to do, had me yawning at the table.

  “Why don't we go around and say what we're thankful for,” Martha suggested a broad smile splashed across her face. I held back my groan. Sometimes she could be so sappy.

  “I'm thankful for my lovely wife, my beautiful daughter, and another year of golf.” Paul lifted his glass in toast then motioned fo
r Colin to go ahead.

  “I'm thankful for friends and family,” he mumbled then followed Paul's example by half-heartedly raising his glass.

  “I'm thankful that I have a wonderful family and that we're all healthy and happy.” Martha concluded by turning to me.

  What was I thankful for?

  “I'm thankful I have a roof over my head, two great parents and amazing friends.”

  Generic enough. Not that I didn't mean them, but I'd learned a long time ago that Thanksgiving meant telling people what they excepted to hear you say, not the real stuff.

  The Thanksgiving after I turned six was the perfect example.

  “Jace, what am I thankful for?” I asked from my seat at the kitchen table.

  Jace was sprawled across the couch, his feet dangling over the edge. Daddy would kill him if he saw Jace doing that.

  “I don't know. Why're you asking?” He didn't turn from the television.

  “I have to write a poem about what I'm thankful for. So what am I thankful for?”

  He laughed and finally glanced at me. “I don't know squirt. It's a poem about you. Just be honest and it'll be great.”

  I slumped back into the chair. The paper loomed in front of me, Thanksgiving spelled out in giant letters going down the left hand side of the page. Be honest. I guess I could do that.

  Thankful Daddy is gone

  He will be away all night

  And Jace and I can play

  Now Mama can come out

  Knowing he's gone

  Sometimes I wish he was dead

  God, please take him away

  I hate my Daddy

  Very much

  I am thankful he is not here

  Now Mama is smiling

  Grateful he is gone

  Most of the words were spelled wrong, but I was proud that I had done what Jace said. I was honest. I didn't want Daddy to ever come home. Nothing would have made me more thankful than to never see him again, to know that we would never be black and blue from his fists again.

  I took the poem to school the next morning. Mrs. Peet had us read our poems aloud. When it was my turn, I smiled at her and began to read. My eyes glued to the paper, I didn't notice the shocked and horrified look on her face until it was too late.

  “Danielle Mays! That's enough!” Her voice quivered in horror and she launched into an explanation as to the true spirit of Thanksgiving. I slouched in my seat, dread filling me with every word she said.

  That night I had something new to be thankful for; that school was out for five days. Long enough for my new bruises to fade.

  After that, I said what they expected. This year was no exception. I thought about Reece and realized that this year he couldn't even give that pat answer. He couldn't be grateful for family and friends because he and Gregg were alone. In a hospital.

  The sharp ringing of the phone jarred me out of my thoughts and I ran to pick it up, oblivious to the stares of the three people behind me. No way did I want Paul and Martha to find out about the phone calls today.

  “Hello?” I asked, glancing at the caller id. Unknown name, unknown number.

  “Dani?”

  Relief sagged my shoulders. Reece.

  “Hey, happy Thanksgiving.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to smack myself. He was in a hospital with his sick brother and I'm wishing him a happy Thanksgiving? What did he have to be thankful for?

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  A long awkward pause ensued. “Well, I just wanted to wish you a happy Thanksgiving,” he finally said. “See you Monday.”

  The line went dead before I could say anything else. He was lying. I was never sure how I knew, but since the first day we met, I could tell when he was lying. So, if he wasn't calling to say happy Thanksgiving, then why?

  “Dani? Is everything all right?” Martha asked as she left her place at the table and came over to me.

  “What? Oh...no, it's not.” I put the phone down. “I really need to go out for a while.”

  “Dear, you have a guest over.” Manners first, Martha was trying to say, her head tilted in Colin's direction.

  “That's okay,” he jumped in. “Why don't I just go with you?”

  Not exactly what I was expecting or wanting, but it did give me a way out. “Sure, that would be great.”

  “Don't stay out too long. We have desert for later.”

  “No, of course not. I'll-we'll be back in an hour or two.” I placed my utensils on my plate and carried it with a few other finished plates through the archway separating the dining room from the kitchen. I quickly scrapped them off and dumped them in the sink, knowing that if I left without doing any of the clean up, I'd be listening to Martha nag about it for days.

  “Sure you don't want to stay and watch the game, Colin?” Paul asked with a hopeful lift of his eyebrow as I scrambled to grab a few more dishes from the table.

  “Nah, that's okay. I'll catch the replays later.” Colin followed me to the front entry and I grabbed my jacket. It was winter in Colorado, and despite the lack of snow covering the ground, a chilly wind was blowing through.

  “So, where are we going?” Colin asked as we climbed on his bike.

  “To the hospital.”

  “To see Reece,” he said with resignation.

  “Colin, please don't start. He's alone with his sick brother, while his parents are traipsing around the world, completely ignoring the fact that Reece is doing their job.”

  “Whatever,” he said and revved the engine, blocking out any further discussion.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A lot of people complain about the smell of hospitals, but for me it was comforting. The lingering scent of bleach mixed with the thick smell of cafeteria food always made me think of how frail life was and how in this one place it was safe to be weak.

  We checked with the nurses' station to find Gregg's room and, after getting our directions, headed that way. As we approached the room, the door opened and a gown-shrouded figure came out, wearing a surgical mask. He pulled the mask off and I realized it was Reece. He sank into a chair outside the door and pulled off his protective gear, then tossed it into a bin beside him.

  “Reece.”

  He looked up in surprise. Joy and anger flashing across his face as he took in Colin and me standing there. I moved towards him, feeling Colin lingering behind.

  “What are you doing here?” Reece asked, standing up from the chair.

  My steps faltered before I overcame the idea that he didn't want me there and concluded he was just curious. “You called and... I didn't want you to do this alone. Not anymore.”

  “So you brought him?” The accusation was in his tone and my heart sank at the thought of arguing with him again.

  “Hey man, we can leave,” Colin said, coming up to join us.

  “No!” I interjected. “Colin, you don't have to stick around. Martha and Paul won't mind if you go back for dessert and to watch the game. I'll be back in a couple hours.”

  “And just how're you gonna get home? You rode over with me, remember?”

  “I can call a cab.”

  “Forget it. I'll be in the cafeteria when you're ready.” I wanted to hug him, to show him how grateful I was to have him as a friend, but I couldn't. Not with Reece watching, and not with me knowing that Colin wanted more. It wouldn't be fair to either of them.

  Colin headed for the elevator, and we watched the doors close behind him. Once he was out of sight, I embraced Reece, trying to transfer all my love to him through that innocent, friendly touch. With arms still around each other, we moved to a bench that rested against a large planter in the middle of the hall. The vibrant greens of the artificial plants brought the stark white walls to life.

  “How is he?” I asked.

  Reece let out a heavy sigh. “He's in a bad mood today. Not that I blame him. He's been cooped up in that room for over two weeks. There's only so much reading and poker you can do before it drives you nuts.”

 
“Can't he go for a walk even?”

  “Not yet. He can barely manage to sit up in bed. Even if he could, the chemo is destroying his immune system so a walk down the hall could kill him.”

  “Do you want me to get anything for him? Magazines? His iPod?” Guilt assailed me. I should have already asked these questions.

  “No, I already picked all that stuff up. He doesn't even use it. He's either too tired, in too much pain, or wallowing in self-pity.” Frustration tensed his muscles.

  “That's understandable.”

  “Yeah, but it's probably the worst thing for him to do. I just don't know how to help him.”

  “Call your parents.” I raised a hand to silence his protest. “I know you don't want to and trust me, I don't blame you, but Gregg needs them here. You need them here.”

  “I just wish they wanted to be here.”

  “Let them take this on their shoulders, Reece. You've always been so strong, for everyone-” My words cut off abruptly when he stood up moving so his back was too me. “What's wrong?”

  “I'm not always strong, Dani. I'm not this perfect friend, this perfect guy that you think I am.” Frustration filled his voice.

  “What are you talking about?” I stood up, inexplicably feeling defensive.

  “Forget it.” He looked at me and I winced at the sadness in his eyes.

  “No, I want to know what you're talking about. What did you mean?”

  “I'm mean how you always think of me as being perfect, like Jace. Well, I can't spend my life living up to a dead guy.”

  “I don't do that.” My protests sounded weak even to my ears.

  “You do. I know you don't mean to, but every time I do something even vaguely stupid or make a human mistake, you make an excuse, like I couldn't possibly have really done it.”

  “Reece, I know that you're human and that you make mistakes.”

  “Yeah, but you wouldn't forgive me if it hurt you in anyway, because Jace would've never hurt you.”

  “I...I...” There was nothing I could say to deny it. Hadn't I done exactly that when he said he wasn't ready to be with me? I'd run, feeling betrayed, then I'd done the same thing to Colin as Reece did to me, except Colin stuck around.