I looked over at the buffet line. It was getting longer. People had plates full of food, looking for a place to sit. How could someone be so hungry on a day like this? My stomach did flip-flops as I made my way outside, holding back the urge to leave. I counted down the weeks until my first day at Reyersen.
The patio door opened and closed.
It was Brandi.
I zeroed in on her black stilettos. She was almost limping. My mind raced back to earlier today when I first saw her and James. She wasn’t limping then. As Brandi closed the distance between us, she winced in pain with each uneven step.
Her face was flawless with a hint of makeup. Last year, I concluded that she never had to ever worry about pimples or anything that targeted a teen like me.
Brandi said, “You totally ignored me in there.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“You have no clue what I was going to ask.”
“That’s the problem, Brandi. You’ve never asked me anything. What do you want?”
“Figured you’d want to hang out.”
“Why?”
“You knew Devin better than anyone. I was hoping you’d help me put together a collage showing a personal side to Devin. And I’d include pictures of our performances.”
I wanted to ask what happened to her ankle in the last two hours but kept quiet. “Are you and James dating?”
“We’re just friends.”
Liar. “Maybe. I’ll text if I can make it.”
We exchanged numbers and went our separate ways.
An hour later, I found myself on Austin’s doorstep leaving a small box with his name on there. At least he wasn’t home. I didn’t want to see him.
As I turned to leave, the front door opened and Austin stepped outside. “Is this how it’s going to be.”
“Thought you were gone.”
“I’m parked out back.”
“Take care,” I said, descending the stairs.
“You broke up with me because of James.”
“There’s more to it.”
“I love you, Oliana. But you won’t give us a chance.”
“We never had one.”
“That’s the same crap my mom told my dad. Now they’re divorced.”
“Another guilt trip?” I stopped mid-stride. “If you loved me, you’d know that’s the one thing I can’t stand.” As I whipped around, my eyes locked in on Austin, daring him to say another word. “I’m not even supposed to be dating, courtesy of my dad. Now, I wished I’d followed his lame ass rule. No dating until I turned eighteen. I wouldn’t be hurting now.”
“Like you’re the only one.”
Today was not the time to prove who’s right. “Thanks for not coming to Devin’s funeral.”
“I didn’t see the point.”
“I wished James and Brandi had done the same thing. They showed up for the viewing of the body, left, and didn’t return until later. Brandi’s the only one who came back.”
“At least James is moving on.” Austin shifted his weight onto his other leg. “I don’t know why he’s not texting me back, though. It’s not like him.”
Silence fell between us as I gathered the courage to leave. I’d made the right decision.
Chapter 3
Eye for an Eye
Later that afternoon, one could’ve heard a pin drop in the Mercer household. Today was the court hearing about Daniel. And that meant my need to express my feelings were put on hold.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out and answered it.
“Oliana? It’s Linda. Can we meet? I want to smooth things over.”
“I’m on my way out. I’ll try to call you back.”
“It’s important.”
I hung up and tossed my phone on my bed. Everything was happening too fast. I hadn’t had a chance to tell my parents about Linda coming to see me. Why today? It’d have to wait until I got back from the courthouse with Mom. We had to be there in less than an hour and Dad was stuck in surgery. I’d promised to go and show Mom support.
“Oli. Hurry up.”
Even though I know it wasn’t directed at me, the sharpness in Mom’s voice told me I had made the right decision to wait and see Linda.
About twenty minutes later, Mom and I walked through metal detectors and entered the courtroom. Mom hurried to the table in front of me while I settled in a seat behind her. Marc and his lawyer, Lee Williams were already seated at their table to our left. The air in the room was cool. But not as cold as Mom’s eyes, which reminded me of dark holes waiting to claim the soul of an unsuspecting person.
Mom’s attorney, Nina, had advertised for being pro-mom. Her hourly rate had been a heated topic between my parents until Dad talked Mom down to going after what was necessary. And for Mom that was having primary placement of Daniel.
As the buzzing of the light above dulled the silence, I examined the empty jury box off to the side. If Mom and Marc can’t agree on a suitable placement for Daniel, would it be turned over to the jury? On the television shows, juries handled murder cases. Maybe this was something for a judge.
My research online had mentioned lawyers for children. A guardian ad litem. This person’s interest was for the child only. Whatever happened, I hoped that I’d get a chance to talk to the GAL and share what my little brother had always told me. He wanted to stay with Mom.
Moments later, Judge Irma entered. After everyone went through the formalities, both lawyers explained to the judge that their attempt at mediation between Mom and Marc had failed.
The judge shifted through her paperwork and looked over the rim of her glasses. “Neither parent is willing to compromise for the child’s sake?”
Nina stood. “My client agrees to supervised visitation.”
Lee said, “My client has the right to see his son without intrusion.”
“Is there reason to believe that there’s abuse in the father’s home that warrants supervision?” asked Judge Irma.
“No, your Honor,” said Lee.
The judge looked over at Marc’s table. “Has your client played an active role in the child’s life?”
“Marc admits to putting his job as an attorney first, and would like to rectify that by building a relationship with his son.”
Several seconds passed, and the judge said, “I’m going order that the parents attend co-parent counseling. Also, a home study will be conducted by the guardian ad litem assigned to the case. Until a decision can be made by the court, I’ll grant the father’s request to have his son for two weeks per month. The placement schedule will start the following weekend. It’ll be week on, week off, but the mother will maintain all major decision-making within reason, that benefits the child.”
Nina stood again. “Your Honor, the son suffers from seizures. The new placement schedule would interrupt the stable support system my client has put together to aid in the treatment of Daniel’s seizures. That includes the doctors, appointments, making sure he has his meds and eating nutritious meals.”
“The father will make an effort to learn the routines before his placement.” The judge looked at Mom. “Has the father provided any financial support for Daniel?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Marc’s lawyer stood. “That’s incorrect. My client has made generous financial contributions toward his son.”
The judge’s head tilted as if she was trying to decide whether or not she believed Mom’s answer. She glanced over at Marc. “Do you have receipts?”
“I gave my ex cash,” said Marc. His voice dripped with frustration.
“Always keep your receipts.” The judge scribbled on the paper in front of her. “I’m going to issue a child support order for back pay. See the clerk for the next court date.” The judge slammed her gavel, stood and exited through the door located behind her chair.
Chills covered the back of my neck. Mom lied. Sure, Marc hadn’t been there for Daniel physically. But Marc had helped financially. Whenever Mom r
eceived money, she and Dad had to decide what went into my brother’s savings account. Then they used the rest to help pay for his mounting doctor bills.
Mom talked with her lawyer with her hands clenched at her sides. A few minutes later, Mom and I left the courtroom.
“Here.” Mom tossed me her car keys. “You drive.”
I looked at the minivan, comparing it to Dad’s truck. Both were bigger than my Dodge Dart, but it was Dad who helped get me my license. Driving this should be easy.
As I got in, Mom slammed her door. “What judge would give a person like Marc that type of placement? Marc probably slept with her too.”
The urge to ask Mom why she lied, faded when I noticed her staring straight ahead with her arms folded. Was she angry or embarrassed? Did she care that I knew she lied? Maybe she had her reasons. Maybe she thought it would change the judge’s mind about placement. Most likely, she was getting back at Marc for taking her to court.
For a second, as I started the engine, I was sure Mom had glanced my way. I pulled forward and followed the yellow arrows leading me away from the court, and into days filled with uncertainty.
After the court hearing, I’d managed to find an escape. Sunshine beamed through the windows of my haven, which was nestled in a huge oak tree. Renewed hope filled me as I watched the birds jump from branch to branch, circling my treehouse. Even the squirrel who liked storing nuts next to my steampunk lamp seemed adventurous as he crouched in the corner a few feet away from me, staring at me as if he knew I was the one tossing his stash out the window. Being alone was I needed right now. To sort through all of the problems tearing at my heart. Austin, Devin, Mom, Daniel and Linda.
With everything that had happened recently, I was beginning to think that dark clouds were going to be a constant thing in my life. That there’d be no more happy days. Living life felt like being on stage. One minute I was on a high during the final show. The next, I was crashing down faster than it takes to break down a set.
My fight with Austin was blowing my mind. The possibility of losing my little brother and what it would do to Mom churned my stomach. And Linda--I wished she’d never showed up.
“Oli?”
“Yes, Dad.”
“I’m coming up.”
The squirrel darted out the window as the ladder groaned under the weight of Dad’s cowboy boots.
Dad made his way into the tree house and sat on the beanbag. He had the “I saved a patient’s life” glow on his face, which indicated he had a good day at the hospital. His talent as a successful neurosurgeon included his ability to be patient with everyone around him. Especially, when it came to me. According to Dad, I was the stubborn child who always had to be right. I had to admit it was a strong possibility.
I caught a glimpse of Dad’s name tag—Dr. Norman Mercer before he tucked it into his shirt pocket. He loosened his tie and said, “Are you staying away from the house on purpose?”
“Sort of.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot of things. Like Mom lying in court.”
“Yeah, she did. Most likely because she was scared.”
“But it doesn’t make it right.”
“Can you tell me for certain that you’ve never lied?”
“I’ve never lied to you or Mom.”
“Your friends? Someone at school?”
My eyes dropped to the floor as I remembered lying to my drama teacher about what led to a fight that happened soon after Devin’s death. I keep telling myself that it wasn’t right, but it felt good to have the upper hand. “Guess we all make mistakes.”
“We’re just trying to figure things out.” Dad pushed off the beanbag and ducked to avoid hitting the low ceiling. “What else is on your mind?”
“Austin. He wants me to stay here.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen.”
“He’s not willing to try to work something out.”
“This is one of the reasons I had the no dating until you’re eighteen rule. Raging hormones usually wins over common sense.”
“Dad, I don’t want a lecture.” I leaned forward, resting my head in my lap. “I just want you to listen.”
“Okay. I have one more thing to say.”
Please make it quick.
“You’re not missing anything by waiting to find that special someone. Not saying that Austin’s not it. I’m saying that if he loves you, he’ll wait.”
“Dad, that sounded so lame. Did you get that off of a movie?”
“I wish. Nope, that’s from personal experience.”
Any criticism that’d settled in my mind about Dad’s attempt to encourage me to live a celibate life was gone. He was only trying to protect me. It was hard to imagine Dad experiencing any hurt. He seemed to have it all together. Is that what being an adult was like? You accepted what was and moved on? Too bad there wasn’t a free trial to subscribe to adulthood. I’d cancel my subscription for at least six months, dust myself off and try again.
If it was only that easy. Self-discovery. It had to be the reason why I was stressed about moving out. I was going to face challenges. I just didn’t know what they were.
During high school, all I heard was to plan for the future. I’ve planned, and I’m stuck.
Dad’s cell phone rang.
“Give me one sec.” Dad stepped down onto the ladder. A few seconds later, he was walking the yard, mumbling frustrations on his phone with anger lines etching his face.
When Dad hung up, he looked up at me. “I have to go to a meeting. Is there anything else you need to tell me before I go?”
Dad was the only person I could tell about my meeting with Linda. But now wasn’t the time. “It can wait.”
“We’ll catch up tomorrow.”
“Tuesday’s my birthday party.”
“Everything’s handled. If you’re still awake when I get back, we’ll finish our conversation.” Dad stalked off toward the house.
My parents never wanted me to find out about my past. Of course they wouldn’t want me to have a relationship with Linda. To be honest, I didn’t want to spend time with her. All of the horrible details that surrounded my past and how I was conceived left me reeling with disgust for her.
Who’d want to learn that their uncle was really their dad? Or worse, meeting the person who was aware of everything. Now she wants my forgiveness? However, Linda was dying. Did that make me a bad person for no longer feeling some compassion?
The adult rule of if something happened, you do what you can and take it one day at a time-trumped being sheltered by my parents when bad things were set in motion. Whatever mistakes and decisions I made were mine to own. That included the path that I chose regarding Linda.
By seven that evening, I’d changed into a summer dress with suspenders. A need to express my steampunk tendencies had been pushed into overdrive. I was once again single, heartbroken and needed to vent.
I scrolled through my friends’ posts. Everyone was either out of town or preparing to leave. Others were expressing the sadness they’d felt over losing Devin. Me, I’d been down that road. It was time to let go and do something positive. For Devin’s memory, that led me to one person.
I texted Brandi. “Still want to hang out?”
“Sure.”
“I’m leaving now.”
Brandi’s reason for inviting me was still unclear. For all I knew, I was walking into a trap. Was she doing this make herself look good to the marching band? Rumor in school was that Brandi hung out with people that I know would’ve given my parents a heart attack if I’d even thought about it. Had James gotten over the loss of Devin so quickly? Did he ever care for her? Was Brandi a substitute?
Instructions from my phone zapped me out of my jumbled emotions. The map showed I was nearing the final turn leading to Brandi’s townhome. Jet trails in the blue sky continued, leading me to Brandi’s driveway and disappearing behind the ro
ofs of other houses behind hers. Lush gardens and bike trails zigzagged throughout the gated complex.
After Brandi let me inside, I froze, afraid to touch anything. Everything was white. The walls, furniture, and carpet.
Brandi pointed to a small rug behind the door. “Take your shoes off.”
I did what she said, letting the quietness surrounded me. “Where’s everyone?”
Brandi had on cut-off shorts and a tank top with a vest. “I never said there were going to be others.” She ushered me down the hallway, still limping.
As we rounded a corner, abstract paintings and photos came into view, covering the walls from top to bottom. The den was decorated with white tiled floors and area rugs.
She pointed to the sofa. “Want a wine cooler?”
The leather cushions felt cool against my legs as I sat down. “I’m not thirsty.” A bowl of unfinished popcorn sat on top of the entertainment center. A hint of butter lingered in the air. “What’s the real reason you invited me here?”
“My parents are on another one of their trips. Which means I don’t have to be the perfect daughter or friend. When I’m around the other girls, they expect me to be, you know, perfect. Also, the collage for Devin.”
My muscles relaxed as I caught sight of pictures with Devin in marching band and on stage. I picked up one of her from junior year. She was in costume for a play called The Graves. It was her first lead role.
“I’m glad high school’s over,” said Brandi. “There was always so much drama. At least we graduate tomorrow.”
“Yeah. We should get started?” As I reached for the scrapbook, I noticed sunglasses with worn scratches along the rims. “Is James here?”
Brandi seized the glasses off the table and dropped them into her purse. “He forgot them.”
“What happened to your ankle?”
“I rolled it on a stupid rock while taking out the trash.”
We began sorting through the pictures, trying to decide which went best together under the premade labels. Soon I was mimicking her speed as we shared stories about the bad lunches and, which classmate wouldn’t be walking across the stage with us. An hour later, we finished our project and cleaned up.
Staged: (Oliana Mercer series Book 2) Page 2