The Final Piece

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The Final Piece Page 7

by Maggi Myers


  “No way, Casanova,” Tommy chimes in from behind me. I sigh heavily.

  Here we go again.

  “What?” Ryan’s face flushes slightly as he addresses his uncle.

  “Do you think this is amateur hour?” Tommy turns all the way around in his seat facing Ryan, placing me directly between them. I lock eyes with Aunt Melissa, begging her silently. Please, please stop them!

  “I was a seventeen year old boy once. I know...” Tommy doesn’t have a chance to finish before Aunt Melissa jumps in.

  “Enough, Tommy! You are embarrassing Beth,” she scolds. “Back. Off.” She crosses her arms across her chest giving Tommy the stink eye.

  “But...” Tommy starts.

  “But nothing! If you want to talk to Ryan about something, you should be doing it in private. You are making everyone uncomfortable with all your posturing,” she continues.

  “You two, in the water.” Uncle Rob interrupts, signaling Ryan and I to get in the water and away from Tommy’s grousing. In my desperation to get away from the argument brewing on board, I forget that I haven’t actually agreed to this and jump in the water. Ryan follows suit, followed by the ski tube. I glance back at the boat where Melissa and Tommy are still going at it, and Uncle Rob has taken over the captain’s seat. When I turn back to Ryan, he’s watching the trio with the same skeptical reserve as I am.

  “Quickest lesson, ever,” I break the uncomfortable silence, smiling as Ryan turns his attention to me. “Hang on the handles. Don’t let go,” I crack myself up. Ryan rolls his eyes at me and splashes water at me.

  “You’re a dork,” he laughs. We climb onto the ski tube and wiggle into position “You know you can trust me, right?” Ryan’s question takes me off guard. I look at him blankly, my words failing me. “I meant it when I said it and I don’t want you to doubt that because Tommy thinks I am a dirtbag.” I jerk at his statement, reaching to grab his forearm.

  “Tommy doesn’t think you’re a dirtbag, Ryan. Tommy doesn’t want me to grow up and he’s not handling it well. This has more to do with me outgrowing my pigtails than anything you’ve done. Don’t believe for a second that he doesn’t think you are anything less than wonderful.” I squeeze his arm, hoping he believes me. I know how it feels to be thought of as less and it makes my heart ache for Ryan. He turns his face toward me and it steals my breath. The vulnerability I see there is as beautiful as it is shocking.

  “Thanks,” he whispers. The sweetness of the moment fades as Ryan’s mouth draws up into his lopsided smirk. “You know, your pigtails aren’t the only thing you’ve outgrown.” My face flames and I squirm next to him. He laughs at the expression on my face. The towrope goes taut as Uncle Rob hits the throttle, leaving Ryan’s statement to bounce around in my head as we fly across the water.

  Uncle Rob is mercilessly steering the boat, swinging us in wide arcs that jump the wake. We hang on as tightly as we can, whooping madly as the ski tube catches air. Our landing reminds me of a stone skipping across the water. We howl with laughter as we skip along, making it hard to hold on. Uncle Rob makes another sharp turn shooting us into the air. My grip fails and I’m thrown off the tube. For a moment I am flying and then the surface of the lake rushes to greet me. I tuck my knees and head to my chest just as my body hits the water. Thanks to my life vest, I pop out of the water with the force of a champagne cork.

  “Beth! Beth!” I wipe the water from my face and turn toward Ryan’s voice. He is practically walking on water to catch up to me.

  “Woohoo! Wasn’t that awesome?” I holler as he approaches. The closer he gets the more clearly I see the furrowed line of his brow. When he is close enough, he reaches for my arm. He pulls me toward him, grabbing my face in his hands. I forget how to breathe.

  “Shit! Are you okay?” He is panting as his voice shakes with fear, “When you flew off the tube, you were so high up and then you hit the water,” he swallows hard, shaking his head. “It scared me, I thought you were hurt.” Without releasing my face, he leans forward pressing his forehead against mine. I am careful when I let out a shallow breath; afraid moving will break the spell of the moment. His eyelashes cling to the water on his face as he closes his eyes. His chest is rising and falling in quick succession under his life vest.

  Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into an embrace. Ryan responds by crushing me against him. The bulky life vest between us instantly irritates me. I lean my head against his shoulder and fight the urge to run my fingers through his hair. Enveloped in his arms, I feel safe.

  “It’s all right, Ry. I’m okay, I don’t even have a scratch on me,” my voice is a whisper against his shoulder. Any doubts I have about trusting Ryan, the lake washes away.

  Chapter 15

  The ride back across the lake is surreal. Tommy doesn’t complain when I sit next to Ryan but he does join us on the bench seat. Here I am stuck between two people that I care about deeply but who have very different ideas about me. I know that Tommy’s need to protect me goes beyond my growing up. He wants to shelter me the way my parents should have. The problem is, I don’t need protecting from Ryan. I needed it from Drew.

  I pick at a string hanging from my life vest, shifting in my seat. Ryan doesn’t know any of the details of what happened in Miami, he only knows that my parents are in rehab. If he does know about Drew, he’s never let on that he does and has stayed true to his promise under the cherry tree. We don’t talk about anything I don’t want to talk about.

  Once, Ryan was at the house when my mother called, and I really thought he would ask about her, but he didn’t. He left me room to bring it up if I wanted but never pressured me to when I didn’t. It’s nice having someone around who doesn’t know how damaged I really am. I hope that Tommy’s tantrum doesn’t raise a bunch of questions I don’t want to answer.

  Frustrated, I pinch the bridge of my nose and go over the ski tube caper again. I didn’t think getting bucked off was that bad, but then I didn’t see it like the others did. Being launched as high as I was made my subsequent landing appear pretty bad. Ryan wasn’t the only one who was scared, Aunt Melissa clucked over me like a nervous hen, inspecting me for injuries when we got back on the boat. Tommy yelled at a white-faced Uncle Rob for being reckless, but poor Uncle Rob didn’t need the ribbing, he was distraught enough.

  Maybe it’s the distress rolling off everyone or maybe it’s just too much attention for me to handle, but I find myself slinking back into the quiet of my own world. It’s been months since I’ve felt the need to detach myself from what’s happening around me, and now I am flooded with the need to hide from the concerned faces around me. Tommy flanks my right and Ryan is to my left, the two people I have chosen to trust implicitly, and I am choosing to shut down like a coward.

  My choice.

  The thought slams into my head, stemming my impending retreat. I look back and forth between the two, reminding myself that I’ve made a good choice in trusting them and these are good men. They’re not Drew, and it’s not fair to allow his poison to affect the way I see them. Determined to prove a point to myself, I lean my head against Tommy’s shoulder and clasp Ryan’s hand in mine. With a resolute intention, I remind myself where I am and who I am with.

  I. Am. Safe.

  It surprises me when I don’t have to repeat and play back those words a million times to convince myself of their value. Somewhere, not as deep down as I thought, I really do know that I am safe. I guess I have grown up in more than one way. Someday, I hope thoughts like these aren’t secondary to thoughts of Drew. He stole every “first” from me. How do you get past that? I’ll never know what it feels like to give the first piece of myself to someone I choose, someone I care about. Up until now, it’s been hard to imagine caring for someone else enough to surpass the stain Drew left and that part of me will always believe shame is stronger than love.

  “Only if you let it,” Dr. Warren’s advice rings in my head.

  “It’s how we put those
pieces back together that matters.” My mom’s words of wisdom follow suit.

  Ryan brushes his thumb across my hand, bringing me back to the present. It never fails, whenever my thoughts drift to heavy places, Ryan finds a way to reassure me. Whether it’s his foot under the dining room table or the caress of his thumb across my skin, he knows what I need and it always makes me feel better. He cocks his head and gives me a warm smile. Maybe I am nuts, but I just can’t imagine anyone else ever making me feel the way Ryan does. As overly dramatic as that may sound, it’s true. Sure he can push my buttons, but he also makes me feel something no one has been able to—hope.

  My cheeks flush with warmth when I squeeze his hand and return his smile. It’s a day early, but I am powerless against my mind drifting to lit candles and birthday wishes. I look to where our fingers are interlaced and know what my wish will be—my first real kiss.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning I wake on the cusp of a dream with sweat running down my spine. Disoriented, I blink at the rays of sun shining through the blinds and wonder where I am. My sigh of relief breaches the serene quiet when I realize I’m not in my bedroom in Miami and Drew isn’t here. It takes me a moment to remind myself that I’m safe but my heart is still insistent as it pummels my ribcage. The last time I had a nightmare about Drew was right after I started to speak again. Every time I take a step forward with my life, Drew is there trying to derail me.

  Only if you let him. Don’t let him win.

  There is no way I am going back to sleep, so I tiptoe to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. As the grounds percolate and drip into the carafe, I try to set my mind to brighter things. Today is my fifteenth birthday and I have the whole day to look forward to, no sense in letting a dream get me down. Careful not to make any noise, I pour a cup of coffee and sneak out the front door.

  The sun peeking over the horizon casts a hundred different shades of pink, orange and yellow across the lake. I walk gingerly across the gravel to the dock on my bare feet. The light dances across the surface of the water and beckons me with a siren’s call. I find my spot at the dock’s edge and hang my feet over the side. That is how Tommy finds me, savoring my coffee and drawing circles in the water with my toes.

  “Hey baby girl, I thought I might find you out here,” Tommy yawns, scratching his stomach through his Iowa Hawkeyes t-shirt. It doesn’t surprise me to see him. We’ve been having early morning pow-wows on the dock for a long time. “Couldn’t sleep?” He brushes his hand across the top of my head before joining me.

  “Bad dream.” I murmur into my mug. Tommy regards me with sleepy eyes, but the twitch of his mustache clues me in to his concern.

  “Wanna talk about it?” He wraps his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder.

  “No, but Dr. Warren says it’s the only way I will ever get past it.” I stare into my mug and try to gather the courage to continue.

  “You know you can tell me anything, Beth. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby girl.” Tommy’s warm baritone washes over me, giving me the boost that I need.

  “It was about Drew,” I start, “nothing specific, more like a mash-up of everything.” My hair falls like a curtain, hiding my face from Tommy’s reaction. I hear him blow out a breath as he takes in my statement.

  “I have bad dreams too,” his confession surprises me. Pulling my hair behind my ear, I turn toward him. His eyes are focused on the lake. “In my dream, I am back in your living room, pounding the living shit out of Drew, except this time I don’t stop, Beth. I kill him with my bare hands,” his voice trembles as he pinches the bridge of his nose. I reach over and lay my hand across the top of his. I don’t want this pain for him. ”The dream doesn’t scare me as much as waking up wishing that I had.”

  I rest my head on Tommy’s shoulder and let the weight of his words soak in. Knowing the extremes he would go to protect me makes me feel brave. As the sun continues its ascent into the sky, I lay out the whole story. I have to give Tommy credit, he masks his fury well when I tell him how Drew struck up a friendship with me when I was five and by my sixth birthday had me convinced that touching me meant he loved me. Tommy swallows audibly when I tell him how Drew encouraged me to show him how much I loved him by touching him, too. I close my eyes, not wanting to see Tommy’s reaction when I explain it was two years before I realized Drew was doing something wrong and when I tried to stop it, he cried like I had broken his heart. After that, Drew made sure to remind me that no one would believe the word of a child over him. Once I have purged the last detail, Tommy cocoons me in his arms. The same arms that struck out to protect me, the arms that saved me.

  “In my life, I have never known, nor will I ever know, someone as strong and courageous as you, Elizabeth Irene Bradshaw,” Tommy whispers against my temple. I have no words, so I nod my head against his chest, hoping he understands my acceptance of his praise. ”You honor me with your trust, baby girl. I am so very proud of you.”

  “Dr. Warren told me that I made a good choice when I told her that I trusted you, T.” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should tell him the whole of what Dr. Warren said. “She told me that I did good choosing Ryan, too,” Tommy’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline, “to trust, I mean.” Tommy’s face is frozen in surprise, so I continue, “I trust him to be careful with me. At the same time, he doesn’t treat me any different than normal.”

  “I don’t know about that, the way he was looking at you... “ Tommy wiggles his eyebrows up and down, eliciting a mortified gasp from me.

  “I mean, he doesn’t act like he’s afraid to be around me, like I’m going to fall apart if he says the wrong thing. It’s nice to just feel normal.” I shake my head, embarrassed by Tommy’s candor but glad to have made my point. “He thinks you believe he’s a dirtbag.”

  Tommy’s face falls at those words. “Oh,” Tommy whispers, “I never meant it that way. I just don’t like boys ogling my baby girl.”

  I shove Tommy in the shoulder. “You mad at me for ogling him? Talk about a double standard!” I laugh.

  “No! La-la-la-la-la-la-la!” Tommy sticks his fingers in his ears, “I am not listening!”

  With the mood significantly lighter, we grab our mugs and return to the house to see who is ready for some lake time.

  Chapter 17

  From the moment Tommy and I cross the threshold into the house, our day begins in a flurry. Gran is in the kitchenette frying up egg sandwiches and Uncle Rob and Ryan are at the card table scarfing down theirs. Pops is dancing around Gran, trying to pack a cooler to take fishing. As he reaches into a high cabinet, I catch him swatting Gran’s butt.

  Gross.

  Aunt Melissa comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and pauses when she sees me. Her face breaks into a huge smile filled with her love for me. It makes me blush for some reason, and I feel a little sheepish when she holds her arms out for me. I step into her embrace and let the soapy scent of her shower wash over me.

  “Happy Birthday, Elizabeth Irene!” She squeezes me until I grunt from the force, as she pushes me to arm’s length, assessing me. “Well you look the same as yesterday, how do you feel?”

  “I feel better than I have in a long time.” I answer Melissa, but my smile is for Tommy. Yes, it’s starting to feel like I am on my way to leaving Drew where he belongs, in the past.

  “Saddle up, hanyaks! We are wasting precious lake time dilly-dallying in here.” Uncle Rob pats the card table as he stands and clears the table. The promise of the lake is all the motivation I need—I am skipping to the bedroom when I feel eyes boring a hole in me. From the card table, Ryan is watching me with amusement. He stands and skips into the kitchen with over exaggerated movements.

  Moron.

  We all scatter to our rooms to ready ourselves for a day on the lake. I grab a pair of cutoffs and my Aerosmith t-shirt to wear over my bikini. While sunblock helps, unless I cover up, I will end the day with a gazillion more freckles I hate. I grab my
bag, making sure to pack my towel with my SPF 85 and Walkman. I am anxious to listen to the mix tape I made for the trip. The pull of music and the lake almost has me skipping out the door before I remember Ryan poking fun at me. I sling my bag over my shoulder, lift my head high and remind myself that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

  Ryan looks confused as I climb into the jet boat. “You aren’t going out on the ski tube today?”

  “I am,” I reach into the neck of my t-shirt and pull the string from my bikini into view. “The sun is freckle fertilizer and I need more of those like I need another hole in my head.” I mean to sound playful, but Ryan doesn’t play along. He studies my face and cocks his head to the side.

  “I like your freckles,” he says nonchalantly, “they’re you.”

  I blush at his compliment. He smiles warmly as he takes my bag and stows it under the bench seat as he continues readying the boat for the day. “Hey, did you say something to Tommy?” his question pulls me back from my swooning.

  “Huh?” I stall, trying to figure what he knows about my talk with Tommy. My stomach hits the floor of the boat at the thought of anyone overhearing my early morning confessions. Sweat beads on my top lip as I wait for Ryan to answer.

  “About me?” he says. “Did you say something? Because he took me aside to tell me how proud he is of me.” Ryan stops winding the towrope to look up at me through his long blond lashes.

  Crap, I can’t think when he looks at me like that.

  “Umm...“ I stutter, “No, he’s just in a sentimental mood. He told me the same thing this morning when we were having coffee on the dock.” There, that’s part of the truth...minus the other nine-tenths of the conversation. Ryan raises an eyebrow at me and I shoot him a toothy smile.

 

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