Without anything else to do, I drove to my apartment and lay in my bed with a full glass of Coke, pretending it was blissful Jack.
Chapter Sixteen
Jessica
Sunday afternoon, Mama insisted we visited my father, even if he was sleeping.
“I don’t spend much time with him,” she said, and the guilt was clear in each of her words.
I had no excuses not to go. After all, I had come here because of him. However, Jason rattled something about visiting Dad yesterday and left the house before Mama could inflict guilt on him too.
Mama drove the truck, and as we passed familiar streets, I remembered last night. The way Ryan watched me, his tense body, his words. I didn’t understand him. One minute he was stomping over me like I was the last thing he wanted to see, then he was acting like a jealous boyfriend. And what about his father? I was a disgrace to Ryan? What happened to him was about me? My curiosity had skyrocketed now.
We arrived at the hospital, and the nurse at the nurse’s station smiled.
“I was about to call you, Corrine,” she said. “Your husband is awake.”
Mama beamed. “He is?”
I froze. He was? Oh damn.
She hurried her steps to Papa’s door, but she didn’t open it right away. She turned to me and rested a hand on my arm. “He’s crankier than before, and moody. Please, just … be patient with him. Are you ready?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t ready. I had no idea what to expect.
Mama pushed the door open, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Papa was lying in the same bed I had seen him in before, in the same room, but now he was awake, looking out the window. His face was pale and his brown eyes a little dull.
A pang ran through my heart.
Mama rushed to him. “Darling,” she whispered, taking his hand.
He turned his face to her and a small smile took over his thin lips. “Hi, Cor.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re awake. There’s someone here to see you.”
She stepped to the side and gestured to me. Papa’s smile faded, his dull eyes hardened, and his frail body stiffened.
I took a step toward his bed. “Hi, Papa.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone harsh, his voice weak.
“She came to see you, darling,” Mama said, playing referee. “Jess came all the day from Cleveland to see you.”
He spread his arms. “You saw me.”
A mix of feelings stirred within me and tears filled my eyes. His fragile state mixed with his words and body language hurt too much. I wanted to bolt, slam the door, and never come back. But one look at Mama, at her desperate, begging eyes, and I knew I had to try. For her, I would try.
“We should talk.”
Papa turned his face to the window and stared outside. “What is done is done. There’s nothing to talk about.”
I took a deep, calming breath. “It has been four years, Papa. Four years. That’s a long time. I’m different now. More mature, more responsible. If you give me the chance, you’ll see I’m okay and what happened is forgotten and in the past.”
He glanced at me. “Can you take your virtue back?”
Virtue? Who talked like that? Papa, that was who.
I sighed. “You know I can’t.”
He returned his gaze to the window. “Then there’s nothing to talk about.”
That was it. The calm I was trying to keep around my anger and frustration burst like a damn. “Seriously? You’re sick and I came all the way from Cleveland to somehow make peace with you, and you won’t give me five minutes of your time to properly talk to me?”
Papa closed his eyes.
“Darling,” Mama started, her voice quivering. “She’s trying. You should try to.”
He snapped his head in her direction, his anger now turned to her. “You’re going to defend her after all she did?”
All I did?
Hearing him, someone would think I had robbed a bank or killed a person. But all I had done was fall in love and give my heart to the guy I thought would take care of it. The fact that said guy couldn’t was another matter.
“Paul …”
“It’s okay, Mama.” I retreated to the door. “I should go.”
“No, hon.” Mama extended her hand as if I was close enough so she could hold me. “Don’t go.”
I opened the door. “I’ll see at home.” I stepped out and closed the door as Mama’s voice filled the room.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away furiously. I wouldn’t cry for him, because of him.
I took a deep breath and walked out of the hospital, feeling as if things had just gotten worse.
After a thirty-minute walk, I arrived home and sat at the back porch table with a bottle of honey and a plate of crackers. Luna sat on a chair beside me, and she whined every time I took a bite. I threw her some pieces of the crackers and a drop of honey.
When the crackers were gone, I opened the bottle of honey and poured it directly on my tongue. I only wished the sweetness of the honey could spread through me, through my life.
Mama had stayed at the hospital with Papa, and Jason hadn’t come back from wherever he went. At least he didn’t witness the argument.
I sighed. Seriously, why had I come? I didn’t want his forgiveness. I hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. I had fallen in love and had my heart broken. It was a normal thing for a sixteen-year-old, though I confess it hurt like hell and I didn’t wish it on anyone.
But to Papa, I should have lost my virginity only after my wedding, which would be when I was thirty-five. Or, at least after dating the same guy for five years.
By sleeping with Ryan when I was sixteen, I had shamed him. I had disgraced the family name. I was now impure and unworthy. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness. Not that I wanted it. I didn’t think I needed his forgiveness, but he was dying. Would he go and we wouldn’t set things right? Or half right?
I knew this would be hard. He would never understand; he would never see this through my eyes. So then, why was I here?
A black Mustang parked on the street beside our fence.
My heart skipped a beat, and then sped up when Ryan stepped out of the car. He opened the side door on the fence and entered the backyard.
Lune jumped off the chair and barked at him twice.
“Shhh,” I told her.
Ryan looked too handsome walking across the grass in a dark red T-shirt, jeans, and black boots. His face was solemn, but that didn’t lessen his beauty. In fact, maybe it even intensified it.
His eyes met mine and my throat went dry. He climbed up the few back porch steps and leaned against the rail beside the table.
“Hi,” he said as Luna sniffed his boots.
“Hey,” was all I could muster.
He glanced at the half-empty honey bottle and the empty plate on the table. “I see you still like honey.”
I gripped the arms of my chairs. “W-what are you doing here?”
Ryan crossed his arms. “We should talk.”
***
Ryan
I hadn’t seen Jessica this nervous in a long time. Not since she came back, that was for sure. The fact that she had downed half a bottle of honey was proof how much she was nervous, irritated, worried, or angry.
Well, I deserved all of those feelings. And more.
The problem was, I was a little nervous too. I didn’t like telling anyone about what happened, though most people in town knew about it. If it depended on me, Jessica would never know. She already hated me for that damn fishing trip; now she would hate me even more.
However, after the shit my father said to her last night, I couldn’t just not tell her. She had a right to know she wasn’t a disgrace to me. No. I was a disgrace to her.
“Are you going to tell me what happened after I left?”
I groaned. “I don’t really want to, but yes, I’ll tell you.”
She let out a long breath. “Okay.�
��
And that was it. The ball was in my court. How did I start telling her all the shit?
“I should probably begin with what happened between us.”
She shifted her weight as Luna settled at her feet. “I’m not sure that’s necessary.”
“It is.” I inhaled a deep breath, gathering strength. I glanced at her bedroom window. I must have scaled that wall at least ten times when we were together. “After you left, I lost it. You had left and I didn’t explain. I tried reaching you after you left, but your phone was gone and nobody knew your new number. Jason got your grandma’s phone number for me, and I called a few times. Your grandmother hung up on me.”
“What?”
“I guess she was also mad at me. Anyway, I guess I lost it. I began drinking, because it was better than remember the hurt in your eyes, and your father beating you up in the square.” She flinched. “I was fired from my job because I simply stopped going. My parents went crazy because I was never home, and whenever they found me, I was passed out on some curb. Jason, Luke, and Ethan tried helping me, but I didn’t really want help. That’s when Ethan’s uncle came to me, saying he had arranged a spot for me in a professional bike race. He believed I could make it big, if I sobered up and showed up on time. I was trying to, but the night before the race, Caryn showed up at my door, and I almost hit her. I pushed her so hard, she fell on the sidewalk and scraped both elbows. I was so angry and frustrated that I went to bed with a bottle of Jack.
“The next morning, I showed up for the race drunk. Ethan’s uncle gave me a shower, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want me to drive drunk, but I sneaked past him and I went. I raced drunk.” I paused. This part was never easy. “I ended up causing an accident with three other racers. Two of them suffered minor injuries. I did too.” I pointed to the scars on my neck. The others on my back, she would never see. “But the other one, he got the brunt of it. My bike fell on him, smashing his back.” She pressed her hand over her mouth. “He ended up a paraplegic, and I ended up in a correctional facility.”
“No,” she whispered. “For how long?”
“Two years, eleven months, and twenty-seven days.”
I decided to skip the part where I got in trouble my first two months in jail because of my temper. I had to go back in front of the judge, and he ruled that I was to attend anger management classes. After a few of those classes, the councilor said Jessica was one of my triggers. He made me promise to stay away from her.
“I got out on parole. I can’t go more than forty miles out of town, I shouldn’t drink, I can’t ride my bike, and I have curfews on weekdays. Officer Mike follows me around everywhere, because he would love to see me fail. But I have only four more months or so, and then I’m free.”
“Why would he love to see you fail?”
I cringed. “I was a jerk to his sister.” She winced, certainly knowing what being a jerk really meant. “It was before we were toge—”
“You don’t have to explain.” She shifted her weight in her chair, making Luna stand and walk away. “And Habitat for Humanity?”
“Judge’s orders. I can quit that once my parole ends too.”
“That’s … wow. A lot to take in.” She fiddled with the hem of her tank top, but her blue eyes never left mine. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “Me too.” I pushed away from the rail. “Well, now you know. And please, ignore my father. He has become hard to deal with since everything went down. You know, he was never a fan of my choices, but since you left and the accident, he practically hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“Oh, he does.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I think he’s just worried about you. He wants you to finish your parole and be free. He must be worried I’m here since I caused everything.”
I stilled. “Jess, you didn’t cause anything. Yes, I was depressed, but I let myself go down that road. I did this to me. You understand that, right?” She didn’t say anything. “Right?”
She nodded, but I could see it in her eyes that she didn’t believe me. Shit.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered. In slow motion, she stood and walked inside her house, closing the back door with a low click.
I stared at the door while Luna whined at my side, wanting to go in. “Sorry, girl. Can’t help you now.”
With one last glance at the door, I descended the stairs and crossed the yard.
I felt a little lighter for having told her the truth, but something else filled my chest. No, I can’t feel like that. Not now.
As if I had ever taken my own advice.
***
Jessica
I heard his car taking off from my bedroom window. The urge to peek was overwhelming, but I kept on taking my clothes from my closet and putting them in my bags.
A half plan formed in my mind—pack, check the internet to see if there was a train or a plane that went toward Cleveland soon, and leave. Hopefully, before Mama or Jason came home.
I closed the first suitcase and sat on my bed, a heavy ball dropping in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Oh my God. Ryan had gone to jail because of me, he was on parole because of me, and his father hated me and took it out on him. Look at all the shit I had caused.
Not to mention my father. He wouldn’t forgive me; he said so himself.
Then why was I here? I had been asking myself this question since I first got here, but I never did anything about it. Well, now I was. Now I would do something about it.
I swallowed the tears and focused on my clothes.
The front door opened and closed.
“Shit,” I whispered. I rushed and closed my bedroom door, hoping whoever was here would think I was already asleep, even though it was still early.
Frozen in place, I waited and listened.
Heavy footsteps climbed the steps. Jason.
“Mama?” he called. “Jess?” He stopped by my door and waited, as if trying to listen for something. Slowly, he opened the door and spied inside. He smiled when he saw me standing beside the bed. “Hey, I thought you were sleeping.” Then his gaze shifted to the suitcases on my bed. With a big frown, he stepped into the room. “What—? Where are you going?”
Tears filled my eyes. “I’m going home.”
“Here’s home.”
I shook my head. “No, Jason, it isn’t. It hasn’t been since I left.”
“But … what changed your mind?”
A tear rolled down my cheek. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“Papa is dying. Of course you should be here.”
“I talked to him today. He doesn’t want me here. He’ll never forgive me.”
“I think the main question is, do you forgive him? Because to me, he’s the one that treated you badly.”
I gasped, looking at my brother as if I had never seen him. “So … you’re on my side?”
He smiled. “I was always on your side, sis. However, I do think you need to pretend to let him forgive you. You know, with the situation the way it is, I think he needs that before …” He dies. Yeah, I knew that. “Well, that was one try. You didn’t really think he would let his walls down that easily?”
“Well, he is dying, isn’t he?” I winced with the force of my words. Two seconds ago, Jason had avoided saying it, and here I was, throwing the words as if they meant nothing. I sighed. “If I were him, I would try to make peace with everything and everyone.”
My brother shook his head. “Papa isn’t like that. It won’t be easy to break him.”
Anger flared in me. “If he’s such a pain in the ass, why bother?”
“Because he’s your father!” He took a step toward me. “Come on, Jess. You were always strong. You never let Papa take you down this easy.”
“It wasn’t just Papa,” I said in a low voice. “It was Ryan too. He came over.”
“Oh. So he told you.”
“Yup. He did. Because of me, he got int
o an accident, he injured someone, he went to jail and has to attend anger management classes, and now he’s on parole. Oh, let’s not forget about his father and how he hates me now.”
He crossed the room and grabbed my shoulders. “No, Jess. It wasn’t your fault.”
I jerked away from him. “He said that too, but come on. How isn’t it my fault?”
“It isn’t!” Jason threw up his hand. “He was a big boy. He drank because he chose to; he went to that race because he chose to. It was his fault. He could have mourned you another way, but his choice, his alone, was the wrong one.”
“It doesn’t change anything. I shouldn’t have come and I’m gonna fix it.” I turned to my bag, but he pulled me back. “Let me go.”
“So that’s it. You’re just gonna run away. Like a coward. Again?”
His words hit hard and I inhaled a sharp breath. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” he whispered before leaving my room.
I sank down on my bed.
He didn’t say he didn’t mean it though, and it was because he did mean it. And the truth was, he was right. It killed me to admit it, it choked me to think about it, but he was right. I was acting like a coward.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryan
This year, Fourth of July was on a Tuesday. As usual, I had dinner with my family at their house, and endured my father’s sharp words and my mother’s worry. In addition, like any other dinner, it was tense and awkward. Apparently, Tommy had gotten in some shit recently and now Dad was pissed at him too. Not that I wanted him to follow in my footsteps, but it felt good not being the only one not in my father’s good graces.
When I was little, we used to camp outside in the backyard. Mom decorated the porch, the fence, and a small tent. She also cooked a big chocolate cake for dessert, and Dad worked on his famous barbecue.
Later, when it was dark enough, we would light sparklers and Dad let off a couple of fireworks. It was a fun, happy time.
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