Forever Starts Tomorrow

Ellen Wolf

Forever Starts Tomorrow

Copyright © 2014 by Ellen Wolf

Cover and internal design © 2014 Refined Ink

The characters and events described in this work are entirely fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Table of Contents

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

He knew that his uncle would be there shortly. One quick glance at the large, round clock hanging in the school’s office confirmed that he had been sitting there for at least twenty minutes. The simple, plastic chair had seen its share of delinquents, of course. So had Ms. Smith, the secretary, whose disapproving eyes came to rest on him in a mix of exasperation and pity. Scott hated pity—especially after he had been marched in there by his class teacher, his dirt-smeared face and bloody knees a testament to the incident in the schoolyard.

‘Can you explain to me why you got yourself into such trouble, kiddo?’ Ms. Smith sighed, her plump hand reaching for the Kleenex box and handing it to him brusquely. She had a reputation to uphold; he got that. He liked her, he thought, as he took the tissue and wiped the dirt smudges off his palms, suppressing a wince as he grazed the raw skin.

‘Beating up another student?’ Her grey eyes were somber. ‘Nick’s glasses are broken, do you know that? I don’t think your uncle will be thrilled to have to pay to replace them, Scott. They’re expensive.’

He knew that. Still, if he could go back and start again, he’d probably do the same thing. The memory of Nick’s stupid grin still smarted more than the wounds. Scott had wiped that arrogant smile off his face, replacing it with a look of disbelief and rage. Soon, it had transformed into a very undignified grimace of pain, as the older boy ran off, his glasses trampled under his heavy feet.

‘Nick’s parents will be here soon,’ the secretary continued, bent on getting some kind of response. ‘You’d better start thinking about what you’re going to tell them. Let me tell you, they are furious.’

She would have said more, but the door opened, and a tall, middle-aged man walked in, his entrance putting a stop to the conversation.

‘Are you OK?’ He ignored the secretary and focused his gaze on Scott. She cleared her throat, visibly miffed with his lack of respect, but he kept on looking at Scott, worry written on his slim face. ‘What happened?’

‘I’ll tell you what happened,’ Ms. Smith interrupted, her double chin shaking indignantly. ‘Your nephew beat up another boy, broke his glasses, and refused to shake hands after they were separated. The principal will talk to you shortly. He’s still busy, at the moment.’

She probably expected him to scold Scott—or at least, to get upset. Scott expected it, too, even though he couldn’t really picture it. In the weeks that he’d spent in his uncle’s house, he’d never seen him get really mad. He’d seen him frustrated and upset, especially when he had to deal with Marnie. But his uncle had never lost his cool; his brown eyes retained a warm sparkle that made Scott trust him right from the start. However, this was different. His uncle would have to pay for the glasses and deal with Nick’s parents, who could already be heard down the hallway, their agitated voices ricocheting off the beige-painted walls. Scott could already imagine Nick’s smirk when he walked in with his outraged mom and dad. The Bartletts were certainly not used to anyone standing up to their only son. After all, Mr. Bartlett was the town’s most successful realtor and Mrs. Bartlett hosted enough charity parties to consider herself some sort of local queen.

‘I’ll handle that.’ Scott felt his uncle’s hand descend onto his shoulder, a gesture that was reassuring and calming. He nodded, afraid that if he said anything, he’d burst into tears.

So while he was standing there and looking down at the tiles, Scott let his uncle talk. The pattern of blue and green rectangles was oddly soothing, and the heated voices of the people around him faded into background. He stole a quick glance at Nick, whose red cheek and crumpled shirt were evidence of their fight. He shouldn’t feel good about it, but he did. He couldn’t dismiss the sense of accomplishment. So what that he had gotten in trouble? After what Nick had said, he was left with no choice. The principal, Nick’s parents, the secretary—they all seemed mad at him and, surprisingly, at his uncle, Tom Masden as well. His uncle refused to give in and join in their complaints, and his calm demeanor was a proverbial slap in their agitated faces. Scott could tell that the principal wanted nothing more than to get it over with and return to his work in the office. Having the parents and Tom Masden agree about Scott's guilt, and part amicably, would allow him to do just that. The principal was visibly frustrated with his lack of cooperation. In the end, his uncle promised to pay for the glasses, and Scott was given the punishment of a few hours of staying after class, helping to organize the freshly renovated library. Thank goodness Mr. White hadn’t asked Nick to work with him. He had almost heard the principal thinking about it and had held his breath, not sure if he could put up with the presence of the arrogant classmate for even a moment longer.

They left the office and walked to his uncle’s car, the old red Toyota parked neatly in the shade of an old chestnut tree. Scott waited for him to speak, now that they were alone. He knew he deserved a good scolding. After all, his uncle worked two jobs to pay for him and Marnie, and the unexpected expense was not something to be ignored. Instead, his uncle surprised him by opening the car and ushering him inside, grinning.

‘How about we go for lunch, Scott?’ The offer was unexpected, and Scott blinked, the heavy weight lifting from his chest for the first time since he had heard Nick’s voice earlier on this day.

‘You must be hungry after all that, right?’ Tom looked quite youthful. His slim cheeks had dimples very much like those of his sister, Scott’s mom. ‘Let’s have some fries and a burger, as long as you promise not to tell your aunt.’ He winked conspiratorially, and Scott smiled in response. He knew that his aunt was bent on feeding them healthy foods and wouldn’t be impressed with their choices.

They arrived at the diner, and Scott went to the restroom to clean his face. When he returned, his uncle had already ordered their meal, and a strawberry milkshake in a tall glass awaited him.

‘So, how about you tell me what happened, son?’ His uncle watched him as he sipped the thick, sweet drink. The creamy coolness glided down his throat. Scott felt better, and he wanted to tell his uncle what had happened. He needed to tell someone before he got in trouble again.

‘Nick was saying stuff about Mom,’ he mumbled, his eyes downcast. It was never easy talking about his parents, not at the best of times. ‘He said that she wasn’t coming back and that she didn’t want Marnie and me at all. That she had started a new life without us and we were left with you for good. That she was selfish and didn’t care how expensive it must be for you and Aunt Gina to take care of us.’

He took a shaky breath and looked up, meeting his uncle's eyes over the table. His uncle was watching him quietly, his hooded gaze a welcome change from the looks cast his way in the office. There was no pity in those eyes, just genuine care and concern. Even though Scott was nine, he could tell the difference between those emotions. He’d gotten enough pitying looks to last a lifetime in the weeks following the day his mom dropped him and his sister off at her brother’s house and drove away, never to be seen again. The town was small enough for people to know each other, and the looks and hushed voices spread with the speed of a bushfire wherever he went.

‘He probably overheard his parents gossiping.’ His uncle nodded matter-of-factly. His salt-and-pepper hair was cropped short and his face tan from his work outdoors. He worked as a repairman at the local car dealership and added to that a few hours a week as a landscaper, mostly trimming the grass and bushes in the municipal park.

‘He said she didn’t want us.’ Scott knew that nobody would ever understand how difficult it was for him to say those few words out loud. He didn’t expect anyone to understand, really, except his sister. She knew and felt the same, even though her way of dealing with rejection was to run off twice and skip classes.

‘Listen, Scott.’ His uncle paused as the waitress appeared with a tray, two burgers and two sides of fries. The smell was heavenly, and Scott’s mouth watered. The woman smiled at them, her warm blue eyes resting for a second on Scott’s stained shirt.

‘We’ve got freshly baked pie, too.’ Her voice was friendly, and she winked at him. ‘Won’t last, let me tell you.’

After she went to fetch their dessert, Scott took a big bite of his burger. Whatever happened next, at least the food was delicious.

‘Listen.’ Tom hadn’t touched his burger yet; his attention was focused on his nephew. ‘Nick was in no position to say all those things, and you were right to punch him.’

That was different. His calm, peaceful uncle actually applauded his violence? Scott blinked, surprised, not sure if he should be concerned or happy. Maybe both?

‘Still, is it such a bad thing to stay with us?’ Scott forgot to chew as he watched his uncle shift uncomfortably in his chair.

He finally spoke again, his voice quivering just a bit. ‘I mean, your mom did contact me and your aunt. She’s in New York for now, trying to launch her acting career. She’ll be busy for quite a while, you know.’

Scott nodded, not sure what to say. He knew that his mom wanted to be an actress, having heard it enough times when she fought with his father before he took off. She blamed him for making her this baby machine, as she called herself, with her talent and career squashed under the weight of running a household and taking care of kids.

‘Do you mind having us around?’ He had to ask it, even though he wasn’t sure he was ready for an answer. Nick’s words burned in his brain, impossible to dismiss. Up until this moment, he had never thought of living at his uncle’s house as something permanent. With the naivety of a nine-year-old, he expected his mom to come back at any given moment, ready to take them to their apartment in San Francisco. He never really talked to Marnie about that, maybe because he knew that his twelve-year-old sister wasn’t as optimistic and would crash the fragile equilibrium he had managed to create.

‘God, no.’ a rough hand came to pat his palm, and his uncle shook his head. ‘Your aunt adores you both, and I… I am very happy to have kids around.’ He sighed, his chest heaving, and the movement drew Scott’s eyes to his work uniform. A little tag with “Tom” rested there, in white letters on the grey-blue fabric of the shirt.

‘I just wanted to tell you that we talked about all that, and we would love to adopt you both.’ Tom continued, his voice choking up. ‘Your mom gave us the green light, and we thought that it would make everything much easier. It will mostly involve legal procedures. I just don’t want you to think that she doesn’t care for the two of you, because she does. ’

He should have felt more pain, Scott thought, as he watched his uncle with wide-open eyes. His mother was giving up on him and Marnie. It was as simple as that; no amount of white lies could change it. Nick was right after all—Scott’s mother didn’t want him. Just like some inconvenient obligation, he had been disposed of. Permanently.

‘I want you to think about this, Scott.’ His uncle’s voice reached him, and suddenly he knew what he wanted to do. He looked at the man who looked so much like his mother yet who was so different. Tom was his family, Scott thought, swallowing a bit of food that seemed to grow in his mouth—his only family, save for his sister and aunt. Those three were the only people who cared about him, who put up with him no matter what, and who were there, day after day. He couldn’t afford to lose that.

‘I would like to live with you.’ Scott said the words loud and clear.

He saw his uncle relax, a ghost of a smile reappearing on his lips. Obviously, the conversation was harder for him than he was letting on. ‘Good.’ He nodded briskly and cleared his throat, the sound loud in the silence between them. ‘And now eat, son. You’ll need to put some meat on those bones, if you want to show those kids not to mess with you anymore.’