Learning to Live

by Jerrica Knight-Catania

  Brandon takes a deep breath and throws his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before leveling me again with his hazel gaze. “This is really hard for me, okay? I’m sorry if I didn’t respond the way you wanted, I just…”

  I hold up my hand. “You don’t have to explain. Let’s just forget about it.”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  I stop short, taken off guard by his tone. It’s a little sharp, biting. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…my parents were killed by a drunk teen. The last thing I want to do is cut this kid—or any kid who’s drinking, let alone driving—any slack. I’d like to see the little bastard locked up, but since he’s under age, well…I’ll just have to settle for juvie, won’t I?”

  And there it is. The bitterness, the contempt, the anger at having lost his parents so young. At having to take on the responsibility of a little sister and a massive corporation when he was barely out of high school. He feels toward these high school kids the way I feel towards the terrorists who took down the towers.

  I smile. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop it.

  “Why are you smiling, Jess?” he asks, and I can tell he’s a little annoyed by my simple facial expression.

  “Because you’re not perfect,” I say.

  “Excuse me?”

  “That came out wrong,” I amend. “I just mean…you’ve been so strong and forgiving and understanding all this time. It’s good to know you have real, human emotions, like frustration and…hate?”

  He sighs and leans his back against the glass windows of the waiting room. “It had to come out sooner or later, right?” he laughs. Then after a long pause, “It’s a good idea, Jess. Really, it is. I just…need some time to get used to it. And I won’t agree to anything that’s going to make Caroline feel uncomfortable.”

  A little ray of hope shines inside of me. “Of course not,” I assure him. “But thanks for thinking about it.”

  He grabs me around the neck with his arm and pulls me close so he can kiss the top of my head. I throw my arms around his waist and we stay there for a while, embracing, until the doctor comes down the hall again. We release each other and stand up straight, waiting for the latest news.

  “She’s awake,” he says, much to our relief. “You can go see her.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Brandon says, and then he grabs me by the hand.

  “I think it’s family only,” I say, trying to pull back.

  But he won’t let go. He just turns around and smiles at me. “Close enough.”

  Caroline looks like she’s been to Hell and back. Several times. Her face is black and blue and swollen beyond recognition. She’s got bandages all over and her eyes are barely opened, but she’s definitely awake. She even smiles a little when she realizes we’re there.

  Brandon’s voice is choked when he says, “Hey there, slugger.”

  Caroline looks at him with what’s supposed to be a teasing look and says in a barely audible voice, “Since when do you call me slugger?”

  Brandon laughs and swipes at his nose with his sleeve. “Since you went and got yourself run over by a car, I guess.”

  Caroline turns serious. “Is that what happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” I ask.

  She starts to shake her head and then winces. “No. The last thing I remember was hopping out of the car. The rest is blank.”

  “Well, normally I would commend you for getting out of the car of a drunk driver,” Brandon says, pulling the chair up beside the bed. “But I will have to give you Hell for going and running in front of the car of a drunk driver.”

  Caroline closes her eyes. “I was going to make him get out and let me drive.”

  “Why were you hanging out with those kids, anyway, Caroline?” Brandon presses. “I thought…I thought you were going to start hanging out with the right crowd.”

  “Can we talk about this some other time?” she asks. It seems like the pain meds are starting to kick in.

  Brandon turns to me, and I shrug. “You might want to let her sleep. There’s plenty of time to lecture her on the dangers of the wrong crowd.” If her appearance is any indication, she’ll be bed-ridden for a while.

  “Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing her hand. “I’m just glad you’re going to be okay.”

  Caroline gives a half smile as she drifts off to sleep. I step up behind Brandon and put my arms around his neck. In a bold move, I kiss the top of his head. Somehow that feels more intimate than kissing him on the lips. I don’t know or understand why, it just does. But it also feels right.

  He reaches a hand back and caresses my arm. “Thank you,” he says.

  “For what?”

  He turns to look at me. “For being here. I don’t think I could go through this alone.”

  “You could. You’ve’ been through worse,” I say. “But I’m glad you don’t have to.”

  “Me too.”

  “Listen, why don’t I run back to our houses, pick up some clothes and things?”

  He tugs my arm so I’m forced to walk around the chair and then he pulls me into his lap. “Already taken care of.”

  “Really?” I can’t imagine how.

  “Carly is on her way here with my stuff. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay, but I’m sure your parents would bring you some clothes back if you wanted to.”

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  His arms tighten around me and I lay my head against his chest. “What do you think?”

  “Then I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Life gets put on hold for the next few days as we wait and watch, praying that Caroline will make a full recovery. She’s in a lot of pain. Owen’s truck did a good amount of damage, even though he wasn’t going fast. Perhaps if he’d been going faster, she would have flipped over the top of the car. She would have been injured, but her injuries would have been different. Maybe less serious. As it stands, he actually ran her over, and the wheels did some internal damage. She’s been through several surgeries since that first night, and with each one, she seems to lose a little fight. Or maybe it’s just that she’s in more and more pain with each time they slice her open.

  Either way, I haven’t left Brandon’s side for more than an hour at a time. I’ve run home to take showers every morning, but I always rush right back to the hospital. He’s done the same—running home to shower and then back to his sister’s side. We take turns on the empty bed in her room, so we’ve only slept a few hours at a time over the last few nights. And those hours are restless, at best, what with nurses coming in at all hours to check Caroline’s monitors or to draw blood or administer more pain meds. It’s been rough, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  Right now, Brandon and I are enjoying an afternoon game of Bullshit in the cafeteria over lunch—tuna salad sandwiches and potato chips.

  “Don’t forget to brush your teeth before you kiss me again, okay?” I warn him as he bites into his sandwich.

  “I thought if we ate the same smelly food, we’d cancel each other out,” he replies, making me laugh.

  “I guess we’ll just have to test it out. Bullshit!”

  “Oh, come on!” Brandon whines. “I can’t catch a break today.”

  He picks up the entire discard pile and we resume play. I’ve gotten really good at bluffing. He hardly ever calls me out on my Bullshit, but I can read him like an open book.

  “So, listen,” he says, as he puts another two cards down. “I’ve been thinking about this whole Owen thing.”

  I perk up. “Really? Or are you just trying to distract me from your Bullshit plays?”

  His hand flies to his heart. “How could you accuse me of such a thing?”

  “All right, all right. Go on.”

  “I mean, I haven’t spoken to Caroline about it, obviously, but she doesn’t seem too upset by the boat loads of flowers he’s been sending to her room every day.”

  “True.” And
it really is boatloads. It’s getting hard to breathe for all the pollen in the room.

  “So, maybe I’d be open to hearing more about the idea,” he finishes sheepishly.

  I thrill inside, finding it hard to believe he came around so quickly. But I’m not going to question it. “Well, I was just thinking, since he’s going to be a senior, he probably needs some extra-curricular, community service type stuff on his college applications. We could offer him a position that would let him get those credits while doing penance for what he did to Caroline.”

  “What kind of position?” Brandon asks, his eyes narrowed into his “business squinty-eyed” thing.

  I shrug. “I didn’t really get that far. I thought it was out of the question after I mentioned it the other day.”

  He twists his lips. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be,” I say. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s not like I thought it would be an easy sell to begin with.”

  “I want you to be able to talk to me…about anything.”

  “I can.”

  “You sure?”

  I give him a smile that’s hopefully reassuring. “You can’t scare me off that easily.”

  “Bullshit.”

  My mouth drops in surprise. “I haven’t even played any cards!”

  “No, but I know you can be scared off fairly easily. I’ve learned that first hand over the last few months.”

  “Well, I’ve been through a lot, too.”

  He nods. “I know.” He throws his cards on the table. “Clearly, I’m never gonna win this game. Shall we call it quits and head back up? The doctor said he’d be by sometime after lunch.”

  “Definitely.”

  The doctor is actual walking out of Caroline’s room as we approach the door. And he has a smile on his face.

  “Afternoon, Dr. Watley,” Brandon says, extending his hand. The doctor shakes it and then nods toward me in greeting. “I hope that smile means you have good news for us.”

  “I do, indeed. Caroline seems to be responding really well to the new pain medication we’re giving her. She’s been resting more, no?”

  “Yes,” Brandon answers. “And more peacefully, I might add.”

  “That’ll help her heal faster. And all her blood work and x-rays are coming back better and better each time.”

  “No more surgeries?” I ask.

  Dr. Watley smiles broadly. “Not that I can see.”

  I put a hand to Brandon’s back and feel the air whoosh out of him on a giant sigh. He’s been so worried, and for good reason. We both have. This is the news we needed.

  “She’s awake now, so I won’t keep you,” Dr. Watley says. “I’ll be back later to check on her again.”

  “Thanks, doctor,” Brandon says, and there’s a somberness to his tone, like he really wants Dr. Watley to understand what his dedication to Caroline means to him.

  “Just doing my job, Mr. Todd.” He winks and then walks away.

  Brandon turns to me before we go in, and we throw our arms around each other. She’s going to be okay. Thank God.

  When we walk in, Caroline is sitting up in the bed, and there’s a smile on her face.

  “You’re awake,” Brandon says. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  We all laugh at this, but it seems to cause pain for Caroline.

  “No jokes,” I say. “You’ll pop your stitches…or whatever it is you have.”

  “I know,” she says. “I couldn’t resist. But really, I’m feeling much better. Do we know the street name for what they’re giving me?”

  Brandon points a chastising finger at her. “Don’t even joke about that, young lady.”

  “I’m just kidding,” she says, and then, “So, I guess Owen feels really bad, huh?”

  I glance around at all the flower arrangements, the boxes of chocolates, cards and balloons. “I guess so.”

  “It’s not all his fault,” she goes on, much to mine and Brandon’s surprise. “I shouldn’t have gotten out of the car.”

  “Hey,” Brandon jumps in. “You did the right thing. Up until walking in front of the car.”

  “So it’s not all his fault. Like I said.”

  “At least she hasn’t lost her cheekiness,” I say, my heart warming. I love to see them arguing. It gives me hope that all is going to go back to normal sooner than later.

  “That’s for sure,” Brandon agrees. “So, listen…about Owen.”

  He glances at me. I’m not certain this is the best time to talk about it, but if he wants to go ahead, I won’t stop him.

  “Yeah? What about him?” Caroline shifts on the bed and winces at the pain it causes.

  I hop up to fluff her pillows, glad for something to do as Brandon broaches this topic. There’s no telling how Caroline is going to feel about it.

  “Um, well…how would you feel about him coming to work at Kyle’s Kitchen?”

  Silence falls over the room as Caroline looks from Brandon to me and back again. “Really?”

  “It’s just an idea!” Brandon rushes to assure her. “You can say no.”

  “We were just thinking it might help alleviate some of his guilt over this whole thing, while keeping him out of trouble,” I put in. “That is kind of the purpose of Kyle’s Kitchen, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t have to explain it to me,” Caroline says. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You do?” Brandon and I ask at the same time.

  “Listen,” Caroline says, leveling us both with a look that’s way more grown up than her sixteen years. “I’m not mad at Owen. We were all drinking, and—”

  “Wait a second.” Brandon holds up a hand and punches his other fist to his hip. “You were drinking?”

  Caroline sighs and rolls her eyes. “Not much,” she says. “It’s not like I was drunk.”

  “I don’t care if you were drunk or not! I care that you were drinking at all!”

  Crap. Brandon is about to lose his shit. I’ve never seen him this angry. Ever.

  “How am I supposed to trust you, Caroline?” he presses on. “You make this big about-face, acting like you’re cleaning up your act, getting involved with this huge project to take kids like you and get them to stop drinking and doing drugs and acting out in general, and here you are, still joining their ranks, drinking alongside them. You’re supposed to set the example, Caroline! And after what happened to Mom and Dad…I just…I just can’t.”

  And just like that, he storms out of the room, leaving Caroline and I in stunned silence.

  “Shit,” Caroline hisses after a long pause. “I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  I turn to her, dumfounded. “Is that what you got from that?” I ask.

  She narrows her eyes at me, like the obstinate teenager she is. “What?”

  “Caroline…” I sigh and plop down on the edge of the bed, trying to be as gentle and understanding as I can. “The point is…you’re sixteen. You shouldn’t be drinking at all. You know that deep down, I’m sure. And your brother’s right. A kid that’s been through what you’ve been through as a result of a drunk teen…well, you should definitely know better. You should be setting the example.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Not you too.”

  “Hey,” I say, drawing her attention back to me. “I want to be your friend. I really do. But friends don’t let friends fuck up their lives.”

  Her jaw drops at my language. Sometimes the F word is the only way to go.

  “I’m not fucking it up,” she protests.

  “Listen, you’re a smart girl. And pretty, and talented, and all kinds of other great stuff. I know you’ve had a rough couple of years since your parents’ accident. I know what it’s like to lose someone. I know that feeling of just wanting to give up because life just sucks and feels way too hard. It sucks. But seriously…do you really want to put some other kid through the same shit you’ve been through?”

  She sulks for a minu
te, clearly not wanting to say no, but she finally does. “No. Of course not. But I tried to stop him from driving!”

  “By getting into the driver’s seat yourself, after you’d been drinking too?”

  “I told you I wasn’t drunk.”

  “And the law told you you’re not allowed to drink alcohol until you’re twenty-one.”

  “You suck,” she finally says, but there’s a hint of a smile behind her barb.

  “I know.” I shrug. “Sorry for caring about you. Now get some rest. You’re looking a little sleepy.”

  “That last round of meds is kicking in, I think.”

  I start to head out of the room, but Caroline stops me. “Will you tell my brother I’m sorry?”

  “You can tell him yourself when you wake up.”

  She scrunches her face up as if she’s about to protest, but then her eyelids flutter closed and she’s out. I leave the room and lean my back up against the door, a million thoughts running through my head. The most prominent one revolves around teenagers and mothering and how the Hell did I get here? I’m only twenty-one, for God’s sake. I’m not prepared to lecture teens on the dangers of drugs and drunk driving.

  “Is she sleeping?”

  Brandon has snuck up beside me without my notice somehow.

  “Yeah,” I say. “We had a good talk.”

  “You did?”

  “Hope you don’t mind. I don’t want to step on toes or anything.”

  He sidles up to me, and puts his arm around my neck. “You could never step on my toes.”

  “Famous last words.”

  “As long as you didn’t tell her it’s okay to get wasted and hop in a car, we’ll be cool.”

  “Well, darn.”

  He reaches down and tickles me. My penance for teasing him. I squirm and laugh until he stops, drawing me into his arms and kissing my forehead.

  “I’m sorry to bring you into all this,” he says.

  “Don’t be.” I look up into his hazel eyes, and I’m very glad to have been brought into all this. Stepping outside my own sorrow, my own problems, has been the best thing for me. It’s changed me for the good. “Listen, when all this is over…when Caroline is better and things get back to normal…can we maybe go on a date?”