My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy

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My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy Page 14

by Tracy Hewitt Meyer


  “Okay.” My throat was dry and scratchy.

  She placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Your sister will be fine.”

  She waved me forward. There was one narrow bed with silver guardrails. Trina’s small feet lifted the thin blanket. The television was on but the sound was muted.

  Silently, I eased around the curtain, letting it fall shut behind me. Her name was on the tip of my tongue. Trina…Sis…and all the pet names I’d ever had for her when we were little. Pumpkin butter…Billy goat, because she could never get enough of Gran’s homemade apple pies.

  But none of these words left my mouth. All I could do was stare at my baby sister. Something kept me from speaking. Like if she saw me before she heard my voice, she wouldn’t be resistant to seeing me. But she had to know I was there, even though she hadn’t looked at me. I was standing just two feet from the bottom of her bed.

  The skin of her face, neck and exposed arms looked ashen. She seemed smaller in the bed, as if this whole ordeal had sucked away actual years from her body. Her blonde curls were matted and flat.

  Neither of us spoke for several minutes. I resisted the urge to crawl into the narrow bed beside her. For some reason, I didn’t think that would be welcome.

  Finally, she spoke. “I lost the baby. Dad will be happy.”

  “I know.” I cleared my throat and took a step closer. She was right that Dad would be happy; or if not happy, then less likely to throw her out. That issue was taken care of. Even if Dad did decide to return to us; which how likely that was, I didn’t know.

  “Why did you try to kill yourself?” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat again.

  If I asked her what show was on the television, I doubted she’d be able to tell me. Her silence was heavy and I almost reached for the remote to turn up the volume, to add some buffer.

  “It just seemed like the right answer.”

  “Trina, how could you think that? That being dead would be better than living?”

  Without moving her head, her eyes settled on my face. What I saw sent chills straight to the deepest part of my heart. I don’t know exactly what she was feeling, but the look in her eyes left me in a dark, black place. If that was the place where she was herself, no wonder she wanted to leave it.

  “Isn’t being dead better than living? What do we have to live for, Rowan?” Her voice was emotionless. “What do we have to live for?” She looked away.

  “Trina, you’re only fifteen. You can stay in school. Go to college. That’ll get you out of here. That’s what I’m going to try to do.”

  She laughed a humorless, dead sound. “Yeah. I’ll do that. After I figure out how to pass the subjects I’m failing.”

  “Which subjects? I can help.” My voice rose with hope.

  “I got kicked off the squad. It seems being pregnant doesn’t jive with cheerleading.”

  She didn’t realize she’d be kicked off the squad if she got pregnant? Was she serious?

  “Never mind about the squad. If you’re failing, you need to be studying instead.” Miss J. would be proud to hear these words tumble out of my mouth.

  “Oh, please,” Trina snorted. “I’m not going to college. I’m not going anywhere but back to that house until some no good guy comes along and wants to marry me. Maybe I’ll get knocked-up again, like Mom did, so the guy will be forced to marry me. Just like Dad was. Then I’ll leave and move to his house. Have his kids. Cook his meals. Become depressed and unhappy, and fat, just like Mom.” Her eyes were full but her cheeks stayed dry. “That’s all that waits for me. And honestly, I don’t see that it’s worth it.”

  In one step, I was at her bedside with her hand in mine. “So it’s true? Mom got pregnant just so Dad would marry her? How do you know?”

  Trina’s eyes dried in an instant, replaced with icy hardness. “They got in a fight one night when you weren’t there. Last week.” Her words were toneless, as if they held no emotion. From the look on her face, they didn’t. “He kept yelling at her for getting knocked-up when they were in high school. I don’t even think they were dating. He said something about drinking, Mom cornering him, and the next thing he knew, she was pregnant and his dad was forcing him to skip college and marry her. That’s why he joined the Army right out of high school. It was the perfect job–he could earn the income to take care of his little wife and his unwanted child,” which was me, “yet still be away from her. He told her he hated her. That he always had. Just like he’s always hated us.”

  Trina hadn’t spoken so many words to me in years. Maybe it was the sedation, loosening the walls built in her mind. Maybe it was the fact that she felt she had nothing to live for so she might as well let all those words out into the universe.

  But I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she was saying. I knew Mom and Dad had a bad relationship, but I didn’t realize that there had never been any love there; that Mom had gotten pregnant on purpose? Were they never even a couple? That would at least explain why he didn’t care for me and Trina. He’d never wanted us in the first place. But what about Aidan? He’d wanted him.

  Trina seemed to follow the stream of words in my head because she continued. “It was a very enlightening conversation. You should’ve been there. Dad had a lot to say. He also blamed her for getting pregnant with me. He was going to leave her. His own father was dead so he felt no obligation to stay married. And that she got pregnant with me to make it harder to leave a wife and two children. Harder than leaving a wife and one.”

  Trina stared at the television like she was reading from a script.

  “He told her, over and over, that I was no good, just like her. That I’d gotten knocked-up in high school, just like her. The only difference was there was no way in hell that he would force that loser to marry me.”

  Trina’s skin felt alien, yet familiar, all at the same time. I was so glad she didn’t pull away. I needed to feel her closeness as she spilled these devastating secrets. A tear finally escaped. It ran out of the corner and made a path over her cheek, toward her ear. With a whisper touch, I wiped it away.

  “Aidan would’ve been the one thing to bring us together. Do you know that? He would’ve been the only thing that could have changed our lives. But he’s dead. All because of that stupid blanket. Dad said so. He said that there was a chance after Aidan came. A chance that he could love us, love us all. But she’d blown that because she left the baby to your care.”

  My heart turned stony, frigid. “It wasn’t my fault.” The words were spoken, but were they heard? Could Trina hear me? That it wasn’t my fault? Could I hear myself?

  “No, you may not have killed him outright. But you did kill him. You’re the reason Mom can’t get out of bed; the reason Dad hates us. We were on the right track. Until you decided to play mommy and be the big girl.” Trina crooked her fingers in the air at the last words.

  “You’re so selfish. Everything is about you. You couldn’t ask for help that day. You wanted to be the big kid, didn’t you, Rowan? And now look. Our brother’s dead. Our Dad hates us. Our family is a mess. And it’s all because of you.”

  HER WORDS were like lethal darts, aimed right at my heart. Was she serious? She thought it was my pride that made me put that blanket on Aidan? That had me making his bottle and changing his diaper? I wanted to show I was a big kid?

  “Yeah, that’s right,” she sneered, as if I had spoken those thoughts. “All you had to do was call Gran. Or even knock on Mom’s door until she opened it and came out to get him. But, no,” she sang in her mocking tone, “big sister Rowan had to act like she could take care of everything. And then guess what, she ruined everything.”

  Her lips hardened. “Now, there’s no hope. It’s done. Everything is done. Lost. Gone. We had one chance to be a happy family. And that chance is gone.”

  The skin on her hand went cold, so cold beneath my own; as if the warmth of life left her completely. Her chest still followed the rise and fall of life, but her hand held none of that energy.<
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  There was no hope for our family. I knew that. When a family is built on nothing but disdain and regrets, there is no way that family can survive. Can it? But I knew the answer. The answer was no. Trina was right. We’d had one chance at happiness and I’d blown it with that stupid blanket. I’d blown our family’s only chance.

  I dropped her hand and darted out of the room. She didn’t call after me, or if she did, I didn’t hear her. I ran down the hall, past the nurse’s station and the nurses. Past a couple of doctors. Past people dressed in regular old clothes and patients walking around in their revealing hospital gowns, pulling IV stands beside them.

  I ran into the waiting room. I didn’t look for Gran. Or Mike, who was standing exactly where I left him. Or Jess, who was standing right in the middle of the waiting room, like a tall, cherry-haired, black-clad obelisk.

  I hurled myself through the doors and into a blanket of rain that only added to the moisture that stained my cheeks.

  “Rowan!” Jess yelled.

  I didn’t stop.

  “Rowan!” Mike yelled.

  A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me to a halt. “Rowan! Look at me!” It was Mike. Rain poured over us in sheets, like the despair inside our hearts wasn’t enough.

  My chest hurt too bad to breathe. I couldn’t pull air into my body, even though it screamed for it. I doubled over. Mike caught me in his arms as Jess ran up to us.

  “Rowan, what is it? What happened?” Jess stroked my back.

  Mike held me to his chest as my body convulsed.

  “Go away,” I said. “Let me go.”

  “What?” he asked. “What did you say?”

  “What?” Jess asked, but I ignored her. It was Mike I needed to talk to.

  His handsome features were morphed by his concern, making him no less handsome, but more like a grown-up with real grown-up problems.

  “Let me go. I’m not good for you.”

  His hands wrapped around my upper arms, holding me up. “Why are you saying this? Rowan, tell me what’s going on!”

  I tried to wrench free. He saw much goodness in me. And he seemed to be the one person I didn’t want to disappoint.

  “No. It’s over.”

  He shook me. “No, it’s not over. I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. You are not your sister.”

  “No, I’m not. But I’m no good for you.” I blinked against the onslaught of rain. “I’m no good for you, Mike. You need someone you can be proud to take home to your mom.”

  He loosened his grip just enough for me to pull away. I stumbled back several feet and wiped my face with my sleeve. It did no good against the rain, though.

  “Why are you doing this, Rowan? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m toxic, Mike. You deserve better.”

  Jess tried to follow me, but I held up a hand and shook my head. She slid to a stop, a puddle of rain sloshing over the toe of her black steel-toed boots.

  I grabbed my keys out of my pocket. “Gran will give you a ride. I gotta go.”

  Mike reached out. “No.”

  I didn’t let him touch me. “I can’t take you down with me.”

  His face morphed into a myriad of emotions I didn’t take the time to decipher. I watched him for a few seconds more before I bolted to my car. Without looking back, I peeled out of the parking lot and left Mike and Jess standing there, staring after me. His hands were held out in front of him, like he was pleading for something. I didn’t wait to hear what it was.

  “TRINA TRIED to kill herself.” I stumbled into the car lot.

  “What?” Dan hurried toward me. “Rowan, what are you talking about? What happened?”

  My wet soles slipped on the tile but Dan caught me.

  “You’re soaked. Where have you been?”

  He tried to pull back and look at me but I wouldn’t let him. He would be my life raft. Dan would be the answer: he would help get me out of my home. I couldn’t wait until I left for college. And I couldn’t afford to live on my own before that.

  “Marry me.”

  “What? Rowan, again, I have to ask, what are you talking about?”

  He managed to get ahold of my arms and pushed me away from him. He was wearing his raincoat, so he must’ve just had a customer. His thinning hair was still wet and I could smell cigarette smoke on his breath.

  “I…I think we should get married. You want to go out, right? Let’s just get married. Now. Today.”

  How could he argue with that? He could marry a young gal and I could get away from my family. It was perfect.

  “You’re talking nonsense.” He dropped my arms and stepped away.

  I closed the space between us. “No, I’m not. You’ve been chasing me around here for the past several months all but begging me to go out with you. I can do one better. Let’s get married. I’ll forge my parents’ signature.”

  He shook his head. “Whoa, Rowan. We’re not getting married. You’re seventeen!”

  “I can forge Mom’s signature. She’s so out of it, she’ll never know. Then we’ll be married, I’ll turn eighteen, and everything will be great.”

  Words and ideas tumbled out of my mouth in waves. Couldn’t he see the solution in this plan? Couldn’t he see how important it was?

  His face paled and he took several quick strides, putting the counter between us.

  “Rowan, did something else happen?”

  I leaned over the counter, eyes wide and earnest. “It’s perfect. You’re getting old. You need to be married. I can marry you! Today!” My voice was loud, squeaky.

  “You’re talking crazy. We’re not getting married.” He seemed angry now, his eyes slits of aggravation.

  I hurried around the counter and threw my arms around his neck. I lifted to my toes so I could reach his lips. And I kissed him.

  He shoved me off. I stumbled but caught myself on the wall.

  “Rowan.” His voice full of warnings and sirens.

  The wind whipped through the trees outside. The lights flickered off but then almost immediately came back on.

  The door flew open. “Is Rowan here?” It was Jess, soaking wet and wild-eyed. “Rowan!” She rushed toward me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jess yanked out her phone and her long, slim fingers flew through a text. “I’m texting Mike. He’s on his way. We have something to tell you.”

  As if on cue, Mike burst through the door. “Rowan? My God, Rowan.” He pulled me to him and his iron-strong arms wrapped around me.

  “Rowan.” He dropped down to look me in the eye. “It’s a lie. It’s all a lie. You didn’t kill Aidan.”

  “Huh?” I stammered. His features were awash with rain and he blinked several times.

  “It’s a lie, Rowan. You didn’t kill your brother.”

  Silence fell into the room like a heavy curtain, drawn at the end of a show.

  “What?” I asked.

  Mike scanned our faces in turn. Finally he said, “I just talked to your grandma.”

  I nodded. My mouth was dry. I felt disoriented, detached from my brain.

  “What about Aidan? Did you just say something about him?” It made my throat ache to say his name.

  “Rowan, all those years ago,” he started, “when you thought you were responsible for your brother’s death, you weren’t. Rowan, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t my fault?” I wished my brain would understand his words. “But I put the blanket on him.”

  “I know. But it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Quit saying that!” I covered my ears. How dense could he be?

  Jess stepped forward, putting herself in front of Mike. “Let’s give her a few minutes. Take her home.” Jess knew about Aidan. Knew all about it. One night last year, when we were smoking cigarettes Jess had swiped from her dad’s car, she’d started questioning me about the rumors. I hadn’t been able to talk about it, but I had been able to confirm that, yes, I had basically killed my little brothe
r. She understood, without me even having to tell her, that I never wanted it mentioned again. Period.

  “She needs to hear this now.” Mike’s tone was more aggressive than I could imagine coming from him.

  “Cool it, guys.” Dan shifted on his feet, his eyes darting between the three of us.

  I was shaking head-to-toe so hard that my teeth chattered. Jess sighed and stepped back, putting an arm on my shoulder.

  “I don’t want to know. I’m done with that family. My mom. Dad. Trina. I’m done. There’s nothing left I want to hear. There’s nothing left for them to say. Dad can rot in jail. Trina can go get knocked-up by some other kid. Mom can die a slow, fat-induced death in her bed. I don’t care!” I clutched my ears between my hands trying to block out the world.

  Mike, with hands on my arms, leaned down until he was looking directly in my face. “Your mom killed Aidan. Not you, Rowan. It was your mom. Your Grandma told me.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  Jess answered. “You didn’t kill your baby brother, Rowan. Your mother did.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Dan demanded. “I’m going to call the police.”

  We ignored him.

  Mike stared at me. “Your grandma told us to find you and let you know. It wasn’t you. It was your mom.”

  “Mike, you’re not making any sense.” It was Dan who spoke again. “Are you saying that Rowan’s mom killed that baby?”

  I didn’t talk about Aidan; about his death. But everyone in our small town knew about it. And knew that I was the cause. Right now, I wished more than anything in this world that Mike would stop talking about it too.

  Someone’s phone rang. Jess, Mike and Dan all checked their pockets. I didn’t bother. The last time someone called me it was Gran telling me Trina had tried to kill herself. I didn’t think I’d ever answer a phone again.

  It was Jess’ phone. “Hello?” she asked, brows creased. She was quiet for several moments. Then the phone fell from her ear. “Ro, your grandma is here. She wants to talk to you.”

 

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