Home No More

by Leddy Harper

  “I keep hearing things like that, but that’s not how he acts now. He’s so hard around the edges and cold. Maybe you should go see him. Maybe you could melt his icy exterior.”

  She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. Something in me changed while talking to Shannon. I don’t know what it was. But I somehow felt I understood Jack a lot better. Jeri was still a little confusing to me, but I was sure I’d figure her out, too, over the next four months. I didn’t hate Corinne like I thought I would after learning what I had about her. I guess I understood her somewhat. I wasn’t a saint, and I couldn’t judge her for some of the things she did. After all, she was really young. I couldn’t even comprehend what it must have been like to be seventeen and pregnant. That’s the age to have fun. And I was starting to realize I wasn’t having any. It was time to change that.

  Shannon and I said our goodbyes, with the promise that it wouldn’t be the last we’d see of each other. I liked her, and I’m sure she felt seeing me was somehow getting her old best friend back. I hadn’t learned too much about my dad, but I was okay with that. He didn’t seem like the kind of person I really wanted to know about.

  I met Link out by his car. He studied me carefully before opening my door and letting me in. I had so much to say to him, but I didn’t know where to start. I appreciated him for being there for me and pushing me to talk to Shannon. I knew I needed him, and not just until I turned eighteen. He would surely be in my life for a long time. He brought me up when I was down, made me laugh when I wanted to cry, and was silent when I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to tell him all of these things, but I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t have the strength to say them even if I had found them. I wasn’t used to opening up to anyone, and I knew without Billy in the picture, I’d have to eventually learn how to. And I was thankful I had Link, because I knew that when the time was right to open up, he’d be there.

  After getting some answers about my parents, I only had one nagging thought. It would come to me without even thinking about it, and it consumed me until I did something about it. I had talked to Lincoln about it a few times, and his only advice was to ask him. To ask Billy why he removed all of my things from John’s house before calling for help. If he didn’t know I was kidnapped, it just didn’t make any sense.

  I didn’t want to call him. I knew he had a way of making me believe everything he said and I wanted to think logically about it. I decided to write him a message on that social media site I still wasn’t sure about. I checked often, and he hadn’t accepted my friend request yet, so I still couldn’t see his page. I didn’t really have anything on my page yet either, but then again, I only had one friend on there—Link.

  Dear Billy,

  I know I said I wouldn’t talk to you anymore, but you also said I need to find some answers. Well, I have a question and only you have the answer. So, if you would, please respond to this so I may start getting past this whole thing.

  Do you remember when John died, and you brought me back to your house before heading back to John’s? You had packed up all of my things before calling the cops, and I never questioned it. But now I am. You told me you had no idea that I had been kidnapped, but I don’t understand why you would do that if you didn’t know. And if you did know, why didn’t you ever tell me? I am not trying to accuse you of anything; I just need some answers.

  ~Kendall

  I had waited and waited for his reply, checking my phone every few minutes. After over an hour of doing nothing but sitting alone and staring at the blank screen, I finally got up and went to Link’s house.

  “He hasn’t responded to your friend request, maybe he doesn’t ever go on there. I know people that have accounts, but they never check it. Maybe he does the same thing,” Link suggested after listening to me whine about him not writing me back.

  It had been over two weeks since I last spoke to him and just a little longer since I had seen him. I had been okay until I decided to write him. It turned me into a wreck. I felt anxious and sick to my stomach waiting for his reply. I knew there was a chance he wouldn’t respond, but thinking about that made my stomach twist in knots even more.

  “What am I gonna do if he doesn’t write back?” I asked nervously.

  “Call him.”

  “I can’t do that. He might not even answer, and if he does, I know I’ll just believe anything he says. He could tell me I was abducted by aliens and left on his front doorstep and I’ll believe him.”

  “Why?” he asked, sounding almost disgusted.

  “I don’t know. That’s just how it’s always been.”

  “Do you think he would lie to you?”

  “No. It’s not that. I don’t know what it is.” I plopped on his bed in frustration. “This whole thing has me so fucked-up. Like I’m so tired I could just close my eyes and fall asleep right now, but I can’t stay asleep. I barely slept at all last night, waking up almost every hour. I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to end up aging me too much.”

  Link pulled me down so that my head rested on the pillow next to his. He turned toward me and wrapped his arm around my waist. It was a comforting gesture, not like he was coming on to me.

  “Just rest. If you wake up, I’ll be right here to help you get back to sleep.”

  His words only made me think of Billy even more. It took me back to those nights just after moving in with him, when he’d stay with me at night until I fell asleep. And the times I’d wake up crying, and he’d calm me down.

  I fell asleep in Link’s arms, thinking about Billy. I even dreamt of Billy, but in my dreams, he was Link. I don’t think the dreams were of any importance, but they caused me to wake up, feeling like I was about to vomit.

  I sat straight up in Link’s bed, noticing the time. I had been asleep for three hours, but it only felt like five minutes. I ran to his bathroom and threw up everything in my stomach. I immediately felt better. It could also be because Link sat behind me, holding back my hair and rubbing my shoulders as my body shook violently.

  He went to the kitchen and grabbed me a water bottle. The kindness he was showing me made me once again think of Billy. I hated how my mind was confusing and comparing the two. I started to wonder if maybe I was growing feelings for Link, but knew that wasn’t the case. Billy still had my heart–the whole thing. I didn’t have any left to give to anyone else.

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “Let’s smoke. I need to relax.”

  He agreed and pulled his box out from under his bed. We went out to the back yard and sat under a tree, smoking from his glass bowl. I looked beyond the line of trees and noticed a building, almost like a small house.

  “What is that?” I had never noticed it before, although I had only been in his backyard a handful of times, all of which I was high and in a daze. This time I felt spunky, like I used to when I smoked with Billy.

  “It’s my parents’ guest house. They never use it except when family used to come and stay, but that was only like once a year. I’d say it’s been like four years since anyone has stayed in it. It’s probably disgusting with dust and bugs. They said I could live there once I graduated high school, as long as I was going to college, but I didn’t want to clean it up. It’s not like my parents are ever home anyway. I’ve pretty much got the entire house to myself.”

  I didn’t have anything to say to that. All I could do was stare at the house and wonder what it would’ve been like to have parents like Link’s. Even if my parents hadn’t gotten in the accident and I hadn’t been kidnapped, my life still wouldn’t have been like his. I shuttered at the thought of what my life would have been like.

  Smoking that day with Link wasn’t much fun. I wanted to get up and move around, he wanted to lie on the grass and relax. I wanted to talk and he wanted to listen to nature. When the high started to wear off, I started to get sick again. Weed had only made me sick twice, and both times I had been drinking on an empty stomach before smoking. My stomach may have been empty from depositing everything from it
in the toilet, but I had not been drinking.

  Once again, Link held my hair back and rubbed my shoulders as I heaved what was left into the yard. I actually cried that time, but I didn’t know what for. He kept asking me if everything was okay, and as far as I knew, it was. But for some reason, all I wanted to do was cry.

  We went back to his room so I could lie down. I checked my phone again, and again there was nothing from Billy. I was starting to get angry and threatened to call him, but Link told me to wait. He was being logical about it, I was being nothing but moody.

  His mom came home just before dark and made us something to eat. It was very nice of her, even if it came from a box in the freezer and was technically cooked in the oven; either way, it was something to eat.

  I left his house once we finished eating. I still wasn’t feeling well, and Billy still hadn’t written me back. I promised Link I would give him until the following night before calling him. If it had been up to me, I would have called him long before then.

  Once my head hit the pillow, I shot out of bed, running to the bathroom. I barely made it before all of the lasagna Mrs. Hunt made came back up. Jeri came running to me, worried that I had come down with the flu. I couldn’t tell her what had my stomach in knots, so I just let her think I was really sick.

  She stayed nearby in case I felt sick again, but I didn’t. I fell right to sleep and slept through the whole night. I was actually surprised when I woke up at just before seven in the morning feeling refreshed. I woke up because I had to pee, but I’m sure I would have woken on my own anyway. Jeri made me a bowl of broth for breakfast. I would’ve argued, but I could tell she just wanted to take care of me. I didn’t mind her doing that. It felt good to have someone around again that showed me that kind of comfort when I wasn’t feeling well. I hadn’t had that since John died.

  I couldn’t explain my change in attitude. All I knew was that I was feeling different. I didn’t want to push Jeri away anymore, and I suddenly felt bad for Jack. I still wasn’t calling them Grandma or Uncle Jack, but I didn't hate them, and that was progress. I liked spending time with Link, and I could tell he liked having me around, too. He even came over that morning and laid around, watching TV with me while I slept and slurped on my broth. I didn’t get sick again until just after lunch. That was when Jeri wanted me to try eating a piece of toast. She immediately called the doctor’s office and made an appointment for me. They were able to fit me in the next day. Until then, I just had to deal with the random vomiting and exhaustion.

  At exactly eight o’clock that night, my phone finally alerted me to a notification. I had a message on Facebook. My heart pounded in my chest and I started feeling sick to my stomach. Luckily, Link was still there and sat with me while I found the courage to read it.

  Kendall,

  I swear to you I didn’t know. My dad told me once when you were younger that you hadn’t been officially adopted yet because he couldn’t get ahold of your parents. So the courts wouldn’t make it legal. He said it didn’t matter though because you didn’t belong anywhere else. When he died and I knew I had to call the cops, I decided to remove your things to keep them from asking questions. You were only fifteen and I didn’t want you to be taken away and stuck in foster care until they located your real parents. I probably should have known something was up when I never could find your birth certificate or social security card. I just figured maybe he never got them from your mom before she left. He told me the same story, too, about dating your mom and her leaving you behind. I swear. I would have never kept something like that from you. I found out the truth the same time you did, and it killed me to know what my dad had done.

  I hope you’re finding all the right answers and finally feeling at peace with some things. I just don’t think it would be a good idea for you to come back here in December. I know we had talked about you doing so, but I’ve had some time to think about it and I no longer think it’s a good idea. I will always love you—don’t ever doubt that.

  Billy.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but cry and let the tears silently fall from my chin to the phone I was still holding in my hand. Link rubbed my back gently but never said a word. I knew he had been reading it over my shoulder. I didn’t care. My heart was breaking into a million pieces and all I cared about was that Link was there for me. Exactly like I knew he would be. I just didn’t think I’d ever be there for him in the way I was beginning to think he wanted me to be.

  Jeri dragged me out of bed the following day and took me to the family practitioner I had seen when I first got there. I played my symptoms down, not wanting them to run all of the tests. I knew what was wrong with me, and it was all Billy’s fault. They quickly looked me over and told us it seemed to just be a virus and to come back if it hadn’t passed in a few days. I knew it wouldn’t. I wouldn’t feel better until I could talk to Billy, and even then, I wasn’t sure it’d help any.

  I spent the next two weeks in a fog. Joanne worried about me. She said I had been doing so well, but it seemed I was slipping back into my old ways. I overheard her tell that to Jeri. Jeri agreed with her, saying she noticed it at home, too. I didn’t know what she meant by that. I had barely been home. Most of my time was spent with Link.

  Even my time with Link was awkward. We smoked a few times together, but each time I regretted it more than the last. I eventually told him I couldn’t anymore. I could tell my mood change had bothered him. He tried to make me laugh, which he succeeded most of the time, but I’d slip right back into a haze of confusion. I needed to talk to Billy, but he wasn’t talking to me. I tried calling him, numerous times, but he never answered. It was just making it all worse.

  Everything changed one Monday morning.

  I woke up with the sun, like I had done for weeks, and used the bathroom.

  The smears of bright pink blood had my breath caught in my throat. After wishing so many times for this to happen, I realized it wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to bleed. For the same reason I didn’t want to keep smoking pot. I wasn’t my mother. I may have been at the beginning, but I wasn’t anymore.

  She had been upset about losing her life when she was pregnant with me. It took blood on a patch of toilet paper to realize my life was growing inside of me. My life didn’t consist of drinking and drugs and a string of parties that I wouldn’t remember after sleeping it off. No. My life was a string of cells, forming and multiplying, growing and creating life inside of me.

  As I sat and stared at the streaks of pink, I, too, feared I was losing my life. Only it was a different kind of fear than my mother had felt, and the life I feared losing wasn’t the same as hers, either. My heart was no longer in my chest, it had dropped to the pit of my stomach and I just knew it was no longer beating. Either heart. The one I was born with, or the one I created.

  I leaned forward and fell off the toilet, crumpling to a sobbing mess on the floor. The tile felt cold against my face and made the tears staining my cheeks froze on my skin. I didn’t know what to do. I felt hopeless and weak. All I could do was lay there and blame myself. Blame myself for not getting the care one needed when first finding out they’re pregnant. I had been to the doctor, I could have told them then. But I didn’t. I was in too much shock once I realized it for myself. I didn’t pee on a stick like most people do. I didn’t count how many days it had been since my last period. The vomiting didn’t even register to me.

  I found out at the doctor’s office, but not the way others did. No. It wasn’t through urine analysis, or blood tests, or checking on a calendar that I had missed my menstrual cycle. It was walking through the doors and remembering the last time I had been there. With that one memory, the realization that I was pregnant hit me so hard I thought I had lost my breath.

  The last time I was there was right after I was brought to Jeri’s house. They wanted to give me a thorough check up, a full physical. I had been to the hospital after leaving the police station tha
t fateful night when everything had been ripped from me. They made me lie on a bed and put my feet in stirrups while they poked and prodded my vagina. It was the worst thing I had ever experienced. But that’s all they did. They didn’t check out anything else. So Jeri took me to the family practitioner’s office in town for the rest.

  I had just ended my period the day I was pulled over. I remember the nurse asking me every personal question there was. And it all came flooding back to the forefront of my mind as I walked in that office again, over two months later, two weeks past the time I should’ve had another period. But I didn’t. Instead of running to the bathroom to change my tampon, I had been running to the toilet to throw up.

  I should have paid more attention to my cycle, but I wasn’t having sex so it didn’t really register. I mean, I obviously had sex, but it wasn’t really planned and it was only the one time. I hadn’t seen Billy in a long time, so protection wasn’t on my brain.

  As I sat in the waiting room, diagnosing myself before ever seeing the doctor, I felt ill. I wanted to run and hide. I wanted to give up. I remember that feeling, because it was the first time I had ever felt that way. I was a fighter. I didn’t give up. But sitting in that room, waiting for my name to be called, all I wanted to do was give up. I didn’t want to be the girl that was kidnapped when she was too young to remember. I didn’t want to be the daughter of two people that were too strung out to do what was right by her. I didn’t want to be the angry seventeen-year-old that lashed out at everyone. And I certainly didn’t want to be the teenager that had gotten pregnant far too early. The one that everyone would say ruined her life. I didn’t want any of that.