TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) (2 page)

TYLER

              I had known Ariana Douglas forever. I’d been best friends with Brandon since the third grade. I had never thought much about her at all. She was just Brandon’s little sister for years, but for some reason, lately I’d started looking at her differently. She’d always been pretty, even I could see she was a pretty little girl, but something changed over the past year. I’d noticed how pretty she was before in a general sort of generic way. But suddenly I found myself sitting in class and staring over at the mass of auburn hair hanging down her back and wondering what it would feel like in my hands. The night of the party, when we’d taken a walk together in the moonlight along the river, I had noticed the way her green eyes had a light yellow rim around them. It reminded me of a cat, and when she smiled at me that night and her eyes sparkled and her cheeks dimpled, I thought that I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

             
The rest of the day, after I kissed her at lunchtime, I’d been worthless in my classes. My mind should have been on the football game, it was a big one. We were playing our biggest rival and the whole town would come out to watch. But instead my thoughts were all on Ariana and the way her lips felt on mine and the way her tongue tasted in my mouth. I could hardly wait for the game, not because I was excited to play, but I wanted it to be over so that I could be alone with her again. As I was walking out to my car after school, I was brought out of my reverie by a voice that reminded me there was something I had to do before I took things with Ariana any further.

              “Hey Ty! Wait up!” It was Brandon. How was my best friend going to feel about me dating his sister? I already knew that her parents didn’t like me. That was only by virtue of my last name as far as I knew. I had never even figured out what our parents’ problem with each other was. Our families were both some of the first Acadians that settled in the Lafayette Parish, and we actually had a lot in common. Our families were invited to the same parties, and we all went to the same church. Us kids went to school and played together since we were little. But the two families were like oil and water, and as Brandon approached me, I suddenly worried about how my friend would react.

              “Hey! What’s up?”

“Are you going to Lou’s?” Lou’s was a drive-in that we football players usually hung out at before or after the football games. I had planned on going with them, but my mom paged me earlier in the day. When I called her back, she’d asked me to come home after school because she needed to talk to me. She’d sounded serious, and when my mind wasn’t on Ariana throughout the day, I’d wondered what could possibly be going on. I didn’t think I’d done anything to warrant a lecture from her…or an ass whooping from my old man. With him, you never knew, but I’m sure Mom would never call me home for it.

“Nah, sorry man. I promised my mom I’d come straight home before the game. There’s something she wants to talk to me about.”

“That’s cool; we’re going after too.”

“I’m not sure I’ll make it then either. There’s actually something I needed to talk to you about.” I was nervous, so I started walking again towards the car. I wished I had a sister so that I could even imagine how it would feel for your best friend to date her. I couldn’t imagine that it would be the best feeling in the world. Brandon and I had gone through puberty together, and he knew better than anyone what went on in my head. He and Ariana were only a year apart and they were closer than most siblings I know. I had to do this though; I wasn’t about to pass up on a chance to spend time with her. The thought of kissing her again gave me the motivation to blurt out, “I asked Ariana out.”

Brandon stopped walking. He looked me for what seemed like a long time before he finally said, “Why?”

I almost laughed, but knowing that it was an inappropriate response, I held it in. “Um…I like her.”

Brandon looked like he was having a hard time processing that. “Since when?”

“I’m not sure. Just recently, I guess.”

“What did she say?”

“About going out with me?”

Brandon drew his brows together. “Yeah, what else is there?”

I did laugh then. It was a nervous chuckle. I wasn’t afraid of Brandon…just of messing up what I had with my best friend. If it came down to it, I wouldn’t fight him over it. “Nothing man, there’s nothing else. She said yes about having dinner with me, and we’re supposed to go out tonight…if that’s okay with you.”

“What if it isn’t?”

I hadn’t given that a lot of thought. I wanted to take Ariana out more than I had wanted to do anything in a really long time. “I don’t know,” I said, honestly. “I guess I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just know that I really like her, and I really want to go out with her. You know me, man. I’m not going to hurt her or disrespect her. I would never do that to any girl, much less your sister.”

Brandon still looked unsure about the whole thing, but after another nerve-wracking pause, he said, “Yeah…okay, I guess.”

“Thanks, man. I won’t hurt her.”

“I know,” Brandon said, making me feel a lot better. “If I thought you would, I’d kill you right now.”

I laughed again. I was even happier when Brandon laughed, too. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” I told him.

He gave me a chin nod, and just as I was about to get into my car, he said, “You do know I’m not the one in the family to convince, right?” I knew he was talking about his parents and their obvious dislike of everyone Petit.

I grinned. “I know. We’ll cross that shaky old bridge when and if it comes to that.”

********

I drove home in the sixty-nine Challenger my parents had bought me when I turned sixteen. When my dad wasn’t being an asshole, we’d worked on it and fixed it up. It was almost fully restored now, and other than my mom and football, it was the thing I loved most in the world. It was an Indian red with black leather interior and custom black wheels. In my mind, I saw myself fixing it back up for my son one day. If I knew anything at that stage of my life, it was that I would have a better relationship with my kid than my dad had with me.

I drove into the driveway of the house, and I was both surprised and a little nervous to see my dad’s car home. It was early for him to be home from the office. As a matter of fact, it was early for both of them. Mom usually left and came home around dinnertime, but some days Dad was there until seven or eight at night. Bobby Petit had been raised in a nice, middle-class family. His father wasn’t a drunk, and he encouraged mine to get a college education. My dad got his real estate license instead. Now that my grandfather had passed on, he likes to talk about how much smarter he was than his dad. He’d used that license and my mother’s inheritance to invest in land around the parish. By the time I was ten years old, my dad had made his first million. I wouldn’t chance a guess at how many millions he had now, all I knew was that we definitely weren’t hurting for anything. He’d even bought up half of the French Quarter in New Orleans. If he wasn’t a drunk and a mean drunk, and if he hadn’t essentially used my mom to gain his wealth, I might have a lot of respect for him. As it were, I did my best to avoid him, and since he never seemed to care about spending time with me, it was easy.

My mom’s family owned a big sugar cane plantation. When it became non-operational, they turned it into a tourist attraction. Mom still loved that place, and she oversaw all of the restorations as they took place. I wondered often if she ever regretted marrying my father. She never said anything negative about him in front of me, and if I hadn’t loved her so much and saw what an amazing woman she was otherwise, I may have lost a little respect for her over the way she let him treat her. One thing I did have to give credit to dad for was his work ethic. In spite of gaining his wealth from my mother to start with, he’d definitely worked his butt off for everything else over the years. 

I walked into a quiet house and found my parents sitting at the dining room table. Mom had a cup of coffee and Dad a glass of scotch. It was early for him to start. I knew this was going to be bad…unless they were getting a divorce. I could get on board with that.

I leaned down and kissed Mom’s cheek. After giving Dad a nod he didn’t return, I sat down and said, “What’s going on?”

They looked at each other and Mom said, “A month or two ago, I started waking up with headaches in the mornings.  At first they were just a minor inconvenience. I took an ibuprofen or two and went on with my day, not giving them much thought. They never completely went away though and along with them, I started feeling this pressure in my head and sometimes if I stood up too fast or bent down to pick something up I felt like I might pass out. I ignored all of that too. But then I started getting nauseated and the pain became intense. I couldn’t ignore them any longer or the way the pressure kept getting worse. I finally saw my doctor.” My heart was pounding in my chest. My mom was trying to look like everything was okay, but I knew her too well. Something was really wrong. She took a deep breath and said, “That was two weeks ago. He prescribed some Tylenol #3 and then sent me to have an MRI. The doctor called as soon as I got home and said there was an abnormality on the MRI and I should come back in.”

“And did you? What was it?”

“I have a brain tumor.” She said it in a matter-of-fact tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Life was about to change, I could feel it.

“What?” I knew that I hadn’t heard her wrong, but my brain refused to process it.

“The doctor says it’s a grade IV brain tumor. They can treat it though.”

“So then you’ll be okay,” I said, hopefully.

Her eyes filled with tears, and I knew that things would never be the same again. My life was about to become about “before and after Mom was diagnosed.”

“They can’t operate on it. It’s in a bad place.”

“But they can still treat it, right?”

“They’ll do chemotherapy and radiation, but the doctor says if that works it will only slow it down.”

I looked at my dad again. He was still staring at a spot on the wall. Why wasn’t the S.O.B. saying something? Did he want her to die? I pushed my chair back and stood up, almost knocking it over. “No! You need to see another doctor that can fix it!” Tears were beginning to spill down her face, and I felt horrible for making her cry. I knew the tears weren’t for her, but for me. When she stood up and opened her arms, I moved into them. She had to stand on her toes to hug me. I folded into her like I was a little kid, and for the first time in years I cried like my heart was breaking…because it was.

When she finally let me go, I realized Dad was gone. Mom put her hand on the side of my face and said, “The doctors are hoping for two years if the treatment slows down the growth of the tumor.”

“Two years is not long enough, Mom. I don’t want to hear that. We can beat this.” I didn’t know a thing about it, only that I wasn’t ready to lose my mother.

“I wish so badly that you didn’t have to go through this, or your father.”

“What about you, Mom? You’re the one that will have to go through this, not us.” I couldn’t even say that word…. Cancer.

“I have to do what I have to do, son. I want my life to go on until it can’t any longer. I don’t want to live the life I have left like an invalid. I’ll keep working until I can’t, and I’ll keep taking care of you and your dad.”

“Where is Dad? He should be here. We need to be taking care of you.”

“He’s having a really hard time with this,” she said.

“He’s having a hard time?” I almost laughed. Of course the selfish bastard would make this about him. Mom was being brave, and he was being a coward, probably pouring himself another glass of courage.

“Tyler, this is devastating to him. It just means he loves me as much as I’ve always believed he did. Listen to me, honey. I need you to make me a promise.” I was afraid she’d ask me to make peace with him. It was almost as bad. “I don’t want any hospitals, okay? I want to stay at home until I die.”

“Please stop, Mom. I can’t do this. I can’t talk about you dying like it’s normal conversation.”

She put her arms around me again, and we just stood there for a long time before she said, “You only have to be as involved in this as you feel like you can. I told your father the same thing.” I felt like an ass. She was being so positive, and I was being a child.

I held her back at arm’s length and said, “I will do whatever you need me to do, Mom. I’ll be here for you no matter what. I love you.”

She hugged me again and said, “Thank you. I love you too, so much. What I want you to do for now is to go and finish being a kid. You have a year of school left. Spend it being happy.”

TYLER

              After Mom and I finished talking, I went looking for and found my dad in the study with another glass of bourbon and ice in his hand. Looking at him made me sick sometimes. I looked just like him, and sometimes I imagined I had no choice and I’d be just like him someday. I’d rather die first.

He was staring out the window, the same way he’d stared at the spot on the wall in the dining room. I took a deep breath, and for Mom, I tried to keep the disgust from my voice as I said, “Dad, she needs you right now.”

              He turned his blue eyes on me, and for a few seconds, he didn’t even seem to see me. I’d seen that blank look before, but only when he was drunk. He finally focused and said, “I’m not going anywhere.”

              “Should I stay home tonight?” No matter what Mom said about wanting life to go on as normal, it just didn’t seem right. How was supposed to go on acting as if things were normal. How could I even process losing my mother in two years or less?

              Dad stood there silently for a long time, and then in a voice that was barely above a whisper he said, “We can’t fix this.”

              “I know that, but we can make it easier, right?” I wanted him to suddenly be the man every boy needed as a father. I was being naïve. It would never happen.

              “Just go, Tyler. I can’t talk about this anymore tonight.”

              I started to argue with him, but with alcohol in his system that was never a good idea. Instead I said, “Okay, I’ll be home after the game. If she needs me, I have my pager.” Dad didn’t even respond. He went back to sipping his drink and staring out the window. I left before I lost my cool and got into a fight with him. I felt sick and lost and scared out of my mind. 

******

              I somehow made it through the football game, but not very well. My coach and teammates, especially Brandon asked me more than once if I was okay. I’d hit a few guys on the field that I shouldn’t have just because it felt good, and then I felt like shit about it. Was I becoming my father after all? Coach had pulled me out and questioned me about it. I was a good football player, but it was unlike me to be aggressive for no reason. I kept telling them all that I was fine, just having a bad night. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone what was going on. If I told people Mom was sick, that she had cancer, it would make it too real. After the game, while I showered in the locker room and my team talked and laughed and celebrated our win, I felt disconnected from it all. This was too surreal. How could my life just be going on as my mother’s was ending? 

Brandon found me before I left the locker room and said,  “Ty, what’s going on man?”

              I slammed my fist into my locker. Brandon just kept standing there. He didn’t even flinch. “I just can’t talk about it right now,” I finally told him. “Ariana’s waiting for me. We’ll talk later, okay?”

              “Okay, just know I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

              “I know…thanks.”

              On my way out of the gym to go and find Ariana, I ran into Sam. I had forgotten he was coming home this weekend. “Hey dude! Great game. I couldn’t believe you out there barreling through that defensive line like that.” My face must have given me away because Sam suddenly stopped talking and said, “What’s wrong?”

              “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I’m sorry. I just forgot you were coming to town. I sort of made other plans.” Brandon came around the corner just then, and I could tell by the look on Sam’s face that he knew something was wrong and it wasn’t about me making other plans. Brandon stepped in and saved me.

              “Sam, you lucky bastard, you get to hang out with me tonight.”

              Sam looked from me to Brandon and then said, “That’s cool. Ty, call me tomorrow, okay? I’ll be in town until Sunday.”

              “Sure.” I walked away feeling like a zombie. It was like things were happening around me, but I wasn’t an active participant in it.

Before I was out of earshot, I heard Sam ask Brandon, “What the hell is wrong with him?” I didn’t hear Brandon’s response. I’d call and fill them in tomorrow. Just then there was only one person that I wanted to see. I went to find Ariana. I knew the sight of her beautiful face would make me feel better.