“Aren’t we always?”
“Yeah. Well, let’s just say I’ve grown since then. Anyway, he always seemed so sophisticated, like he was standing around waiting for the hipper people to come sweep him up and take him away. He told me I was pretty one day, and it was like he was asking me to join his club, you know? But once he had me, he was cruel to me. The worst part was that, for a long time, I let him be that way. Started to believe I deserved it, even. When I finally dumped him, he tried to humiliate me.”
I take a big drink of my beer. “I got really depressed. And I was ashamed that I let him make me question everything about myself. Then my parents found out. It was a mess.”
I sit for a second and collect my thoughts, and Jude lets me. He doesn’t make assumptions. He doesn’t judge.
“You have to understand that my dad is the best—loyal and affectionate. One time, when I sprained my ankle on a hike, he carried me almost three miles on his back. But he’s very strict, and he sees things in black and white.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.”
“My dad told me that he was . . .” The words are choking my throat and won’t come out. Jude offers me his hand, palm up, and I take it. I grip hard.
“That he was disappointed in me. He said that I must not think much of myself if I would give myself to someone so unworthy. He implied that the whole thing was my fault. And he didn’t talk to me very much for a while. But it was the way he looked at me.”
I can’t help the tears that slip out as I remember. I doubt I’ll ever be able to avoid crying at this story, and maybe that’s okay.
Jude squeezes my hand. “Tell me the rest.”
I nod, but it takes me a minute to find the words.
“I felt like a loser and a failure. The depression got worse. I couldn’t sleep or eat. One day, I took a few of my mom’s sleeping pills and went out to Bountiful Lake. When I felt them kick in, I walked into the water and kept going. The water rose up around me, and even though it was cold, it felt so soothing. That was the terrifying part. I felt like I was surrounded by calm, and I just kept walking until I was in over my head.
There was a man launching his fishing boat. I hadn’t seen him, but he noticed me go down. He pulled me out—saved me. Phil, was his name. He put his arm around me and told me everything would be okay.”
Jude leans forward and his hand slides up to my wrist. “And you didn’t tell your parents?”
“No. I said I got a cramp. They would have been so disappointed in me—again—if they knew the truth.” I sit back in my chair. “Anyway, I started seeing the school therapist a lot. Tried to forgive myself for doing something so selfish and stupid. And then I came here.”
“You don’t think you’ll tell them someday?”
I sit and think about that for a while, picturing my father’s face. “No. My father is a good man. What he said wasn’t right, but I know it weighed on him. And we’ve made our peace.” I throw my hand over my eyes. “My God, what if I had succeeded? Could you imagine the guilt he would have felt? Even now, it would break his heart if he knew.” I grab a napkin off the table and dab at my tears.
“You know he was mad at himself, right? That he hadn’t protected you. That he couldn’t kill the asshole that had hurt you.”
Jude has stunned me, again. “He said as much. How did you know?”
“Because that’s how I would have felt.”
I hold my breath—struck by Jude’s fierceness and his loyalty. From the moment we met, I knew he had this intensity and depth, but I also assumed there was selfishness underneath it all. Turns out that for the people he loves, Jude is the most dependable man in the world. Too bad he only loves one person.
I wonder if I could have earned a place on Jude’s very short list. I was too scared to try.
“Anyway, I survived. I learned that I’m tougher than I thought. I guess I’ll never stop having to learn that lesson.”
“You are so . . .” He takes my other hand so that he’s holding them both.
I don’t want his opinion to matter, but it does. My story must seem petty to someone like Jude, who has lived through so much worse.
“Stupid? Overly emotional?” Embarrassment washes over me, but I try to stomp it down. I’m still learning to fight the humiliation that accompanies this memory.
“Forgiving. Alive. Beautiful.” His gaze is kind and unwavering.
The intensity of this moment is almost too much, so I let go of his hands.
He stands up and comes around the table. “You told me once that I’m a contradiction, but you take the prize. A spine of steel, but a heart of marshmallow.”
“We’re not so different, then,” I say.
He raises one dark eyebrow at me and then turns to leave.
I tug on his sleeve to keep him from going. “I’ve never told anyone else about this. Only you.”
And with that, our game of secrets is over.
When Jude gets home the next night, I have dinner waiting. The three of us eat together and watch a movie, but Ryan falls asleep before it’s even over. I tuck him into bed but don’t even pretend that I’m going to leave afterward.
When I come out of Ryan’s room, Jude is nowhere to be found. Then I see the sliding glass door is open and realize he must be outside. Sure enough, he’s there, laying in a reclining beach chair with an empty chair next to him and two beers on the table in between. Looks like he had the same idea I did.
I’m a little unsure as I walk toward Jude. When you put your whole ugly self out there in front of someone, you never know how it will change their perception of you. That’s why I couldn’t tell Ryan the whole truth. He has me on a pedestal that I don’t know how to get down from.
Jude sees me hesitating and pats the seat next to him.
“You know, I really hate beer,” I say as I try to shimmy myself into the awkward plastic chair.
He brushes the hair out of his eyes, and damn, he looks good doing that. “One of your few flaws. I’m trying to better you, Elizabeth.”
I chuckle.
“Ry seems like he’s improving,” Jude says.
“I think so. He still needs a lot of rest. And his physical therapy is going to be brutal. I don’t have the heart to tell him.”
“Wish I could do it for him.” He takes a sip of beer, and his hand is shaking.
“You can’t always protect him. Maybe you should stop trying.”
He sets down his beer and crosses his arms. “Habit, I guess.”
“You gotta let him grow up sometime.”
Jude laughs. “He’s the same age you are.”
“Yeah. I always feel older for some reason. Maybe because I helped raise my brothers. Or maybe because he’s had you to shelter him.”
Jude frowns, so I leave him be, and we drink in silence. I lean back and try to find stars. It’s too bright to see many, but I spot some of Orion’s belt.
“You know, I did try the whole relationship thing once,” Jude finally says.
Clearly, he’s been thinking about what I’ve said and following it to his own conclusions.
“Her name was Kathy. We dated for three months early sophomore year. It was weird for me, walking around campus with my arm around her, taking her to the movies so I could buy her popcorn and make out. All that clichéd stuff that I didn’t know people actually did.”
“You didn’t do any of that in high school?” Jude has never volunteered this much information at once, and I’m hanging on his every word.
“The last year of Mom’s life was pretty crazy. She was very sick.” He swallows hard. “I was dealing with a lot of shit. And then . . .” He takes another drink. “Anyway, by that time I was a junior, and it just became about hooking up at parties, or whatever.
“Kathy must have been a nice change.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. At the time, I tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but it was exciting and new.”
I roll onto my side so I can look at him. �
�Why did you break up?”
“My uncle died. I told Kathy I was filing for legal custody of my brother, and she freaked out. I didn’t blame her. Who wants to hear about social workers and court petitions when they could be going out and having fun?”
“That was really bitchy of her.”
“No. I got it. She deserved to be free, and I became a burden.
“That’s total crap. It’s called ‘real life.’ Loyalty. Too bad if your tragedy interrupted her partying. She should have been there for you. Your expectations of people are too low.” I still my hands, because I know they’re flying all over the place as I gesture.
“And yours are too high. I don’t have any bad feelings toward her. I would have done the same thing.”
I lean back in my chair and gape at him. “Are you out of your damn mind? Do you really not see?”
He sits up in his chair. “See what?”
“You would never have done that. When someone you care about needs you, you’re there. Like with your mom and Ryan.”
“Well, I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice. You act like you’re some fuck-up that got stuck doing something he didn’t want to do. You choose to do the right thing for Ryan—every time. You didn’t just become his guardian. You helped raise a good person. You kept him out of trouble and got him into college. A lot of adults can’t even do that.”
Jude leans his elbows onto his knees, and he looks so young and vulnerable that it breaks my heart. “Well, I was lucky. He’s special—made of good stuff. Better than me, anyway.”
It’s critical to me that he see himself the way I do. I lean across the table and stare into his eyes. “Jude, where do you think he got all of that? If Ryan’s a good man—which he is—then it’s because you showed him how to be.”
Jude inhales sharply. “No one’s ever told me that before.”
“Well, that’s really screwed up.”
I see it in his eyes: the moment when he believes me, when he finally allows all his potential, all his hopes, to fill him up inside. And he’s looking at me like I’m the only person that can keep that hope alive. Worse yet, I want to be that person, and I’ve taken our relationship down a path I didn’t have the right to follow.
What have I done?
CHAPTER 13
Ryan
The pain isn’t as excruciating as it was yesterday, and that’s the best I can hope for. The first couple weeks after the accident, my ribs and arm gave me hell, but Jude and Lizzie kept me medicated and stationary. I’ve cut back on my pain meds over time, so I can stay awake longer. The Percocet wasn’t helping as much as I wanted, anyway, and it was giving me funky nightmares.
Now, my bones are starting to heal, but my hip and other muscles hurt constantly. The doctor said I should start moving around more with the use of a cane, so Lizzie is here taking care of me, trying to get me ready for school, which starts soon. She has me on a routine: halfway around the house and back, once around the house and back, etc. I’m getting stronger each day, but it’s slow going, and I still need help to do almost everything.
I come out of the bathroom—at least I can do that by myself—to find Jude playing Assassin’s Creed in the living room.
“It must be later than I thought if you’re h-home from work.”
He doesn’t glance up from the screen. “There was a lot of bullshit going on at work today, so I took off early. I already ate, but I’ll reheat some for you.”
I go sit next to him on the couch, which is a three-minute production that involves my cane and getting myself situated just right on the cushions.
“What’s g-going on?”
“This guy, Josh, got fired.”
“Isn’t he your f-friend?” Jude ignores the question, and his silence is conspicuous. “What d-did you do?”
“What I needed to. He was after my job.”
“Jesus, Jude. Kind of h-harsh, isn’t it?”
He turns to me.
“No. I don’t let people fuck with me. Ever.”
“Yeah, I’m well aware. But it still must have m-messed with your head. And you weren’t even going to tell me.”
“I’m fine. There’s nothing more to tell,” Jude says, tapping the controller extra hard.
I can tell this isn’t a battle I’m going to win.
“Fine.” Except it’s not really fine. Where does all this anger inside him go? No amount of physical exertion is going to purge him of this cynicism. What he’s doing isn’t working, but I’m just his little brother—his responsibility—so he’s not listening to what I tell him.
I change the subject. “Where’s Lizzie?”
“She needed to go to work. She was here all day taking care of you.”
“She’s b-been over almost every night hanging out with us—or you, because I fall asleep so d-damn early.”
Jude puts the game on multiplayer, and I grab a controller. I swing my character onto a ship and turn just in time to stab a smuggler with my sword. I fight my way through a bunch of guys trying to get through the level. Finally, I get tired of trying to play with one hand and throw the controller down on the couch.
“You getting sick of her already?” Jude laughs, but it’s forced. He heads to the kitchen to warm up some food for me.
When he comes back, he’s carrying a bowl of chicken curry and rice. The smell of onion, curry powder, and other spices fills the air.
“Yum, my f-favorite.”
After I finish eating, Jude takes my bowl into the kitchen, and I hear him putting it in the dishwasher. It never fails to amuse me that he has to wash a dish immediately after it’s used.
“I like having her here,” I say when he comes back. “But I h-hate that she’s seeing me like this. She has to help me in and out of the sh-shower. I’m always cranky and in pain. It’s all a fucking d-drag.”
“Yeah, you’re going to need to get her one hell of a thank-you present, that’s for sure. Tomorrow’s Saturday. You up for a drive? I could take you somewhere to get some fresh air.”
“That’d be c-cool. I can’t walk much, but maybe we could go to Santa Cruz and drive the coast. Has Lizzie said anything to you?”
“About what?” For some reason, his hands start tapping extra fast on the arm of the couch.
“Well, you guys have been hanging out almost every day for a couple of w-weeks. Has she mentioned whether this is too much of a b-burden for her?”
“Ry, she works with ninety-year-olds. She’s a nurse. So, no, I don’t think she minds taking care of you. Why so worried?” He runs one hand over his five-o’clock shadow. It would take me three days to grow that much hair on my face.
I shift my hip to try to get more comfortable, which is hard on a leather couch. “I didn’t tell Lizzie this, but I do remember getting hit by that c-car, and it scared the living hell out of me.”
Jude takes a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“I have so much time on my hands, so I’ve been thinking about l-lots of stuff. If I had died . . .”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Jude throws the controllers into the basket on the side of the couch.
I try to stay calm, because I’ve put it off for too long, and it has to be now. “Let m-me say what I need to say.” I keep my eyes locked on him.
Jude’s jaw tenses but he stays quiet.
“I’ve been thinking of all the stuff I would have m-missed in my life. Every time I picture my future, I think of Lizzie. She is . . . amazing.”
“You’re only twenty-two. You have all kinds of things ahead of you.”
“Yeah, but I know what I w-want. It’s not going to happen t-tomorrow. But eventually.”
I see Jude swallow, the motion exaggerating his prominent Adam’s apple.
“And I’ve been thinking about you. What will you do when that d-day comes?”
I have asked him this question before in different ways, but I can see this time he is taking it seriously.
Jude stretches h
is long arms out against the back of the couch, and memories come of all the things he has taught me to do—throw a football, use a drill, pull someone in for a hug. He’s always seemed bigger than life.
“I’ll figure my shit out, one way or another. And don’t make your decisions based on me. That would fuckin’ kill me,” he says.
Jude is outrageously selfless when it comes to me, which makes his indifference toward everyone else even sadder. “I’ll only p-promise not to do that if you agree to get off your ass and let people into your life. I need reinforcements.”
He just nods and turns the TV on.
The next morning, I hear noise coming from the living room. I slept in late again, so my guess is that Lizzie has come by and is hanging out with Jude. I’m amazed by how much sleep I still need. I let myself come fully awake before I steel myself for the discomfort of getting out of bed.
As I head down the hall, I hear Jude laughing, and the sound brings me up short. It’s a full, deep laugh that he uses almost exclusively around me. Lizzie is squealing and telling him to let go of something, so I keep heading toward the sound of her voice. She is on the couch, trying to wrestle the remote from his hand. He is holding it up in the air out of her reach, and she is shielding her eyes from the TV screen, where a giant spider is burrowing into someone’s arm.
“Stop! Stop! That’s so gross.”
“It’s just a teensy, tiny spider, Elizabeth. Surely Miss ‘I’ve Shot Turkeys’ isn’t afraid of that?”
She lunges at him, and he lets her tackle him. She smacks the remote out of his hand, and the TV shuts off.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of s-spiders,” I say.
Lizzie sits up quickly and runs a hand through her hair. Jude goes to pick up the remote but doesn’t look at me.
“I don’t like to advertise it,” she says with a stiff smile. “How are you feeling today?” She jumps up and gives me a kiss.
“I’m good. Jude said he was going to take me for a d-drive today.”
“You want to come?” Jude asks her. I assume this is a pity invite, but, to my surprise, he seems sincere.
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