Authors: Katie McGarry
“It’s about time you tried it out,” Scott says.
He wears a Yankees T-shirt and a pair of jeans.
Scott acts so grown-up at times I forget that he’s not even thirty yet. He slips off the stool and joins me in the living room. “Want to fill
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me in on Trent?”
“No.”
“Let me rephrase. Fill me in on Trent.”
Scott did hit the bastard. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and try to find the simplest and fastest explanation. “The fucking asshole is the spawn of Satan and someone needs to stake the bastard in the heart, shred him to pieces, then set the pieces on fire.”
“Or take a swing at his head with a baseball bat?”
“Or that.” I smile weakly and Scott gives the same weak smile back. I told Ryan I’d stay. I finger the smooth material of the ribbon tied around my wrist. “Why did you leave us? You didn’t just leave me. You left Mom too.”
“Are you ready to discuss this calmly or are you looking for a screaming match?”
“Talk.” I think.
“When I left Groveton, I meant what I said. I fully intended to come back for you. I know I was young, but I loved you as if you were my own.”
I loved him like he was my father. I draw my knees up and wrap my arms around them.
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
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“Because…” He starts and stops several
times as the words catch in his mouth.
“Because I wouldn’t have made it out if I did. I couldn’t take you on the road with me and if I chose you then I would have had to quit
baseball.
“If I stayed in Groveton, I have no doubt I would have become my father. Your dad swore to me he’d never be Dad, and the day he
graduated from high school he turned into the same bastard our father was. I didn’t want trailer parks and I didn’t want girls hooked on drugs and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life hurting the people I said I loved. If I stayed, I would have become my father and one day I would have hurt you.”
I shake my head. Scott would never have
hurt me. He wasn’t capable of it.
“I was so damned scared that when I began to run, I couldn’t stop. I was scared to face you again. Scared if I saw you, I’d stay and turn into my father.”
Scott swears and holds his hands together as if in prayer. I bite my lip when his voice cracks. “When you first moved here—every
time I looked at you I saw the old man. I saw
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his anger coming out of your eyes. I saw
your father’s bitterness wrapped up inside of you. As much as I’ve hated myself for leaving you behind, I don’t regret it. If I’d stayed I would have never broken free and all of that anger and bitterness I see in you would have been inside of me.”
I know the anger and bitterness he’s talking about. They’re the chains that weigh me down and threaten to drown me daily–at least until I found Ryan. But those chains returned with one phone call from Shirley and they’re
slipping tighter around my throat. “Yay for you. You broke free and I got screwed.”
Scott leans forward. “I know it seems that way, but I broke free for you, too. I fucked up.
I should have come back when I signed with the Yankees and dragged you to New York
with me. I didn’t and I’m sorry, but I’m here now and this…” He holds his hands out and motions at the house. “This is your break, kid.
This is your baseball. All you have to do is trust me and take it. Whatever you want, it’s yours, but you have to let the past go.”
Scott is talking about hope and hope is a myth. He acts like it would be easy to leave
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Mom. As if I could effortlessly hand over the demons in my nightmares and somehow
with the swish of a magic wand, everything would be okay. “What about Mom?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he stares at a thin scar on his right hand where he told me Grandpa had cut him with a knife
when he was a kid. “She’s not my
responsibility and she’s not yours either.”
“No. That’s where you’re wrong. Mom is
my responsibility. It’s my fault that she’s miserable.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Whatever. I’ve been thinking, maybe you
could give her some money. We could put her in one of those rehab places and when she’s clean we could move her someplace nicer.
Mom used to work and we could get her
another job. She’s been down for so long and I know she keeps Trent because he has money. If you help her, I’m sure she can get better.”
“I can’t.”
My head snaps back as if he slapped me.
“What do you mean you can’t?” I did it. I came to him for help. I’m trusting him and he’s throwing it back in my face?
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“I made myself and Allison a lot of
promises when we moved to Groveton and
more importantly when I brought you back into my life. Your mother is a line I can’t cross.”
No, no, no, no. NO! This isn’t how our talk was supposed to play out. “But you have to.”
The room becomes suddenly restrictive and I stand. I need to get out. Everywhere I turn there’s a window or an entrance to another room. There’s not a damn door to the outside in this huge fucking room.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott real slowly. “Why don’t you sit back down?”
“You have to help her!” Because I can’t, and the realization cracks my sanity. “Send her to a rehab. Get her clean. She’ll be better then. You don’t understand. She never had a shot. We never had anything. No one ever helped us.”
“I sent her money,” Scott says softly.
There’s a roaring in my head and I freeze midstep. I’m in the kitchen and I have no idea how I made it here. “What did you say?”
Scott walks over to the island. “I sent your mother money every month. I opened a bank account for her and every month she drained it.
I wasn’t man enough to call you, but I was man
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enough to pay for my mistakes. Allison
found the account a couple of months ago and thought I was having an affair. I brought her here, to Groveton, to prove to her that I wasn’t lying about you or your mother and when I got here I didn’t like what I found. So we stayed, but I promised Allison I would cut off your mother. She obviously wasn’t using the money to help either one of you.”
“You’re lying.” I slam my hand against the counter. “You’re fucking lying!” He has to be.
“I can show you the statements if you’d
like.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t…. I can’t breathe. I can’t.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott. “Sit down.”
I try to suck in air, but my lungs won’t
expand. Grabbing on to the side of the counter, I bend over in my search for oxygen. Scott’s wrong. He has to be wrong. Mom would never have done this to me. Never. Why can’t I
fucking breathe?
“Elisabeth!” Scott shoves a stool out of the way and catches me as I fall to the floor. He sits beside me as I lower my head into my hands.
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“Just breathe,” he commands.
My intake sounds like a wheeze and I feel as if my mind is splitting into halves.
“It’s okay,” Scott tells me.
But it’s not. Nothing is okay.
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BETH DIDN’T SHOW LAST NIGHT. I’m not
surprised. My parents are back in town, plus Beth spent the whole day and into the evening at the hospital Saturday and needed a day to rest. I hoped she would come though. I only saw her for a few seconds on Saturday and that was in front of Scott. She seemed so broken. I need to hold her and tell her I love her and I need to hear the words back.
I’ll catch her before school begins and spend the day trying to put a smile on her face. Lacy, Chris, and Logan will want to help. Between the four of us we can distract her.
I open the fridge, pull out a Gatorade, grab my keys from the counter, and swerve to avoid steamrolling my mother. “Sorry. I’ll see you at the game later.”
And officially introduce Beth as my girl to
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my parents. There is no way either of them would make a scene in public.
“It’s early. Sit down.” Mom brushes past me.
She’s polished for the day. Dress pants.
Sweater set. Pearls. Mom will be on the social club prowl by lunch. Dad walks into the
kitchen from the formal dining room and
barely glances at Mom. The vacation was
supposed to save their marriage. Last night they slept in separate bedrooms.
My keys jingle in my hand. “I have some
stuff to take care of before school. Can we talk later?”
Mom eases into a seat at the table and
gestures for me to follow. I cock my hip
against the frame of the door instead.
“Fine.” Mom opens her right hand and like an accordion my condoms fly onto the table.
“Would you care to explain?”
My keys dig into my hand as I try to keep my anger in check. “You went through my
room?”
“We’re your parents. We have the right.”
I survey Dad and he patiently stares at me from the other side of the room. Panic
combines with nausea and adrenaline, but I’ll
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be damned if they see it on my face. How
much did they go through? Did they find my plaque from winning the writing competition?
Did they turn on my computer? Did they find my stories? This is exactly how they treated Mark when he first came home from college this summer. Right before he told them he was gay.
“I counted them,” Mom says. “There’s one
missing.”
I’ve never hated my mother before and, right now, I do. “What do you want?”
“Who is the girl?”
“I’m not telling you.” Not when Mom is
going to downgrade Beth to the girl I used a condom with. Mom will take something that was beautiful and twist it into something dirty.
“Is it a girl?” Dad asks.
My grip on the Gatorade tightens. “What is wrong with you?”
Dad pushes away from the door frame with
muscles tensed. Mom hops out of her seat and directly into the path of me and Dad. “We heard a rumor yesterday when we went to
dinner. I know it has to be untrue because you would never go against our wishes. I would
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have discussed it with you yesterday, but you were out. I did what I had to do to get some answers.”
“You wait for me, Mom. You don’t go
through my stuff.”
“Are you dating Beth Risk?” she demands.
“Or is she the girl you’re experimenting
with?” asks Dad.
Mom spins. “Andrew!”
“Some girls you date. Others you have sex with. Boys do this.”
“I’m aware of your behavior in high
school,” Mom says. “But my son will not be sleeping with one girl and dating another in public. Gwen deserves better than that. I deserved better than that!”
“Stop it!” I’m tired of the fighting.
“It was one night, Miriam!” Dad yells.
“Twenty-five years ago.”
I throw the Gatorade in my hand across the room. Glass shatters in the china cabinet and Mom holds her hands over her head. “Do you guys even hear yourselves anymore? Did you even bother listening to Mark? Do you even hear me? I’m not dating Gwen and leave Beth out of this!”
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“Ryan!” Dad bellows, but Mom puts her
hand up to silence him.
“Ryan,” she says slowly. Her hand plays
with the pearls around her neck. “Beth Risk isn’t who you think she is. Gwen grew
concerned when you continued to date Beth at school even after we forbade you to see her, so she went to her parents…again.”
I swear under my breath. Gwen doesn’t even understand the destruction she’s created.
Mom continues, “Don’t be mad at Gwen.
She cares for you and she did the right thing.
See, her father knows the truth about Beth. She didn’t move to New York with Scott all those years ago. Her father went to prison and her mother moved herself and Beth to Louisville.
Gwen’s mother knows the attendance clerk at Beth’s old school in Louisville.
“I’m sorry, Ryan, but sometimes children are destined to become nothing more than their own parents. Beth is a drug user. She’s been arrested and her reputation with boys at her old school…”
I don’t wait to hear anything else. “Does Gwen know any of this?” Because she didn’t before. Otherwise, she would have told me in
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order to break Beth and me up.
“Yes. She was there when her parents told us yesterday.”
With my keys tight in my hands, I turn my back to her.
“Ryan!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Come back!”
She’s too late. I race out to the garage, start the Jeep, and peel out of the driveway. If Gwen knows, then that means she’ll tell the rest of the school.
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SCOTT PULLS INTO A SPOT next to the front entrance of school and places the car in park.
We’re early. Neither one of us said much
during breakfast. I didn’t eat. Neither did he.
“Are you sure you want to go today?” he
asks for the tenth time. “I’m okay if you stay home. Allison and I heard you pacing
downstairs so I know you didn’t sleep the past few nights. She’s worried about you and so am I.”
I’m too damned tired to even roll my eyes at the lie of Allison being concerned over me.
Mom and I were supposed to leave today. I was going to cut school and take a cab into Louisville. Then Mom and I would have left.
My insides feel tormented, battered, and
bruised. Sort of like if Trent was allowed free rein over my organs. The worst sensation is the
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tightness in my lungs, the feeling of
drowning.
I touch the ribbon on my wrist. “No. I want to go to school.” I need to see Ryan. He said I had roots here. I need to hear him say it again.