Voyage of the Defiance

by S. E. Smith

  “No,” Brian admitted. “I planned on doing it the other night.”

  “Tell me what?” Makayla asked, pausing in the doorway to the kitchen to look back and forth between Henry and Brian. “Tell me what?” She repeated, stepping into the room and folding her arms across her chest.

  “Go on,” Henry said, nodding to Brian. “You should have told her before you turned on your charm.”

  “Charm?” Makayla repeated, feeling the familiar sickening twist to her stomach that told her that she wasn’t going to like what she was about to be told. “Is that what he calls it?”

  “Makayla,” Brian started to say, grimacing at the frozen look on her face.

  “Breaker and I’ll be on the porch,” Henry said, shooting Brian a look of warning.

  Brian nodded. Makayla stepped to the side as her grandfather walked by, calling Breaker to follow him. For a moment, the Akita looked back and forth between her and Henry before her grandfather murmured a sharp order. Only then did Breaker turn around and follow him out of the kitchen.

  “What is it you forgot to tell me?” Makayla asked, moving over to lean against the counter by the stove.

  Brian ran his hand over the back of his neck and glanced toward the doorway Henry and Breaker had just disappeared through. With a sigh of frustration, he dropped his hand and stared at her with a look of resignation. He waved his hand to the back door.

  “Do you mind if we talk outside?” He asked in a gruff voice.

  Makayla’s eyebrow rose and she stared at him in silence until he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. She pursed her lips together when he shot her a pleading look. Pushing away from the counter, she walked past him and opened the back door. She didn’t stop until she had walked to the opposite side, making sure that there was plenty of room between the two of them. She had learned that from watching what happened when some of her mom’s previous boyfriends tried to coerce her mom into forgiving them.

  “Talk,” she demanded, turning to face him.

  Brian released a strained laugh and ran his hand down over his face. “You sound just like Henry,” he accused with a wry grin that grew serious. “I’m leaving.”

  Makayla could feel the tremble of denial that swept through her. She lifted her chin and pushed it down behind the mask that she had perfected over the years. People could only hurt you if you let them know that they had that power over you.

  “When?” She asked in a calm, unemotional voice.

  “Geez, Makayla. I don’t know why I thought you would care,” Brian moaned, walking over to stand in front of the steps leading down to the backyard. “This morning. In fact, in less than an hour. I’m heading up to Gainesville. Classes start next week and they have orientation tomorrow. I’m moving into the frat house this afternoon. I postponed it as long as I could so that I could spend more time with you.”

  “You couldn’t tell me this earlier?” She asked in a low voice.

  Brian turned to look at her. “I should have,” he admitted. “I didn’t expect…,” he paused and released a breath of frustration. “Listen, I never expected to care about you. I thought it would just be a bit of fun before I left for college. I didn’t expect to feel… this.”

  Makayla stiffened her shoulders and shook her head at him when he took a step toward her. Her lips tightened into a firm line. It was obvious he wasn’t happy about the ‘feelings’ that he felt for her. She just wished he would have figured that out before he had his summer fun with her emotions.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied in a stiff voice. “I’m leaving, too, so it wouldn’t have made much difference. My mom is… better. School will be starting the week after next back home. I’ve got stuff I need to take care of too. Thanks for the summer fun,” she said, walking toward the back door and pulling it open.

  “Makayla,” Brian started to say.

  She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m not anyone’s ‘fun’, Brian,” she whispered. “Good luck in college.”

  She stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. Not stopping, she crossed through the kitchen and dining room and back up the stairs. On the landing, she paused when she saw Brian walk by the front window toward the porch. He and Henry talked for a minute before Brian nodded his head and walked away.

  Makayla didn’t feel like dealing with Henry. He would either say ‘I told you’, or he wouldn’t say anything at all. Either way, it wouldn’t help the pain tearing her apart. Grabbing the railing, she quickly climbed the steps back up to her bedroom. If she thought going back to bed and trying to wake up on the other side would work, she would have done it. The trouble was - she knew that it wouldn’t.

  She quietly shut her bedroom door. Crossing over to the window, she glanced out toward Brian’s house which was two houses down from Henry’s. Pain seared her when she saw Kim’s bright yellow Mini Cooper pull up out front as Brian was walking back to his house. Not wanting to see any more, she closed the shutters on the inside and laid down on her bed.

  Swallowing down the tears threatening her, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and punched in a familiar number. She listened as it rang and rang before going to voicemail. She bit her bottom lip as she listened for the beep.

  “Hey, mom, this is Makayla,” she said in a husky voice. “I need you to call me when you get a chance. I really… I need to talk to you. Love you, bye.”

  Makayla pressed the button to end the call and rolled over onto her side. She felt one hot tear as it dripped onto the soft cloth of her pillowcase. Turning her face into the pillow, then she let all the tears come. It was okay to cry in private, she reminded herself.

  *.*.*

  It was late evening before she came back downstairs. She noticed that the lights were off, but the front door was opened. Breaker’s head popped up and he whined when he saw her standing at the bottom of the staircase. Realizing that she couldn’t hide forever, she pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. The heat lightning lit up the sky, closer than normal and the dark clouds hid the moon.

  “Looks like we’ll have a thunderstorm tonight,” Henry said from where he was sitting in the rocking chair.

  Makayla glanced out over the river again as she moved to the settee and sat down on it. Breaker immediately got up and jumped up onto the cushion next to her, laying his head down on her lap. She absently scratched him behind the ear, somewhat surprised that Henry didn’t chide him for being on the furniture.

  “It’s pretty,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

  Henry lifted the beer in his hand and took a sip before he replied. A reluctant smile tugged at Makayla’s lips. The old man had a way of saying a lot without saying a word.

  “Brian was wrong not to tell you,” he said.

  Makayla stiffened before she forced herself to relax. She wasn’t going to have this discussion with Henry. In fact, as far as she was concerned, Brian wasn’t worth thinking about, much less discussing when it would have been appropriate to warn her he was just having ‘fun’ with her.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, staring out at the approaching storm. “I tried calling mom several times. She isn’t answering her phone. Did… Have you heard from her?”

  Henry took another sip of his beer and shook his head. “Your mom doesn’t talk to me, much less call me,” he said. “She’s not back in the rehab, though, I can tell you that.”

  “How do you know?” Makayla asked in a quiet voice.

  “I’m paying for the condo she’s living in,” he said with a shrug. “She doesn’t know that. She thinks the counselor that she is working with was able to get it for her. I know the manager of the place. He’s agreed to keep an eye on your mom and let me know how she’s doing.”

  Makayla turned to stare at Henry. He just stared straight ahead and took another sip from the bottle in his hand. A flash of lightning lit up the air and for a moment, she could see the sadness in his expression. Feel
ing like an intruder, she bent her head and stared down at Breaker.

  “Why? Why are you helping her when she won’t even talk to you?” She finally asked.

  Henry released a sigh and set his beer bottle down on the floor next to him. He rocked for a few minutes before he finally spoke. He sounded – tired.

  “It doesn’t matter if she talks to me or not,” he said. “She’s still my daughter, just as Jason is my son. The fact that she has made mistakes doesn’t change that. For years, I didn’t know what happened to her or to you. Now, you are both back in my life. I’m not getting any younger, Makayla. I’ve already lost the most important thing in my life when Mary Rose died. I thought I had lost you and Teresa, as well. If there is any way to make sure I don’t lose you both again, I’ll do whatever is necessary. Teresa is trying. The least I can do is give her an invisible hand to help her stand on her own two feet again. Arnie, the manager of the condo, is a good man. He’ll keep an eye on her and let me know if she needs help.”

  “What happened? Mom never talked about why she left, or about my father,” Makayla asked in a quiet voice.

  The sound of Henry drawing in a deep breath mixed with the echoes of raindrops as they began to fall. It started out light at first, but soon a curtain of rain, the flash of lightning, and the sound of thunder beat out a rhythm of its own. Henry bent and picked up his beer bottle and rose, motioning for her to follow him inside.

  Breaker rose up and jumped off the settee, but waited at the door for Makayla. She stood up and followed Henry back into the house. He murmured for her to go into the kitchen, that he needed to get something, but would be back.

  Makayla walked through the dining room, turning on the light over the stove in favor of the overhead light. For some reason, she just couldn’t handle the full brightness at the moment. Henry returned a few minutes later and set a photo album down on the table in front of her before turning to the refrigerator.

  She looked at him, watching as he pulled out a pan and poured the milk into it. Realizing he was making hot chocolate, she returned her attention to the album in front of her. Slowly opening it, she studied the pictures in the dim light as Henry began to talk.

  “Teresa was twenty-two when she had you. She was going to school to be a nurse,” Henry began. “She was damn good at it too. Your grandmother and I were both proud as could be. In her senior year at college she met a young intern at the hospital. They fell in love.” He paused to get the cups down and placed them on the counter next to the stove. He measured out the chocolate and broke it up into the milk before he began speaking again. “He was doing mission work in Haiti.”

  Makayla looked at the picture of her mom standing next to a young man. Both of them were smiling. She gently reached out and touched the plastic over them. Her mom looked so young and happy.

  “Was he my dad?” She asked in a husky voice.

  Henry slowly turned the mixture in the pot. “Yes,” he said, staring down at the steaming liquid.

  Makayla looked up at Henry. “What’s his name and why didn’t mom use his last name when she named me?” She asked.

  “His name was Raymond Martin. I don’t know why she didn’t use his last name. I suspect it might have been because it was too painful,” Henry said with a shrug as he turned off the stove and poured the steaming chocolate milk into the large mugs. “He was killed in a plane crash coming back to the States when your mom was six months pregnant with you.”

  Tears burned Makayla’s eyes as she stared back down at the picture. This time, there was more meaning to the photograph than there had been the first time she saw it. Now, she felt a swelling of pain and sadness at never knowing the man who had been her father. It was just one more lesson that life wasn’t fair.

  “What happened after he died?” She asked in a quiet voice.

  Henry set the cup down on the table next to her before sliding into the other chair. He looked at the picture she was touching for several long seconds. There was such a look of intense sadness in his eyes that Makayla was amazed that he spoke at all.

  “Your mom shut down,” he said as he cradled the drink between his hands. “She quit school and moved back in with us. It wasn’t until after you were born that she seemed to come back to life. You, and Mary Rose, were her world. Mary Rose pushed Teresa to not let you suffer. She reminded Teresa that you were a part of Raymond; a part made from their love together. Teresa did well for a while, even went back and finished her nursing degree and got a job at the hospital.”

  “What happened?” Makayla asked, turning the pages until she came to the obituary that was cut out and tenderly sealed with a dried red rose bud.

  “Mary Rose died,” Henry said in a quiet voice.

  Makayla read the obituary. There wasn’t much, just her grandmother’s date of birth and death, that she was a housewife, played cards, was a member of the garden club, went to church, and was survived by her husband, son, daughter, and granddaughter. Makayla vaguely remembered the funeral now that she was looking at the pictures. It was as if it had been placed in a neat little box in her mind and put away on some dusty shelf.

  For a moment, she was six years old again and standing just inside a small room. Her grandmother was lying down in a beautiful silver box. She remembered thinking it was strange that her grandmother could sleep through the crying and people talking around her. Her mother sat on the corner of the couch, staring blankly at the wall, not talking to anyone, not even her when she told her she needed to go to the bathroom. Small pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place as she remembered other details. Her mother pushing Uncle Jason’s hand away from her shoulder, the soft voice of a man Makayla didn’t know trying to calm her mom, and them walking into another room where a lot of people stood waiting to talk to them.

  Makayla remembered being thankful when they finally got back in the car, only they went to the cemetery. She remembered being afraid to walk on the grass because that was where they put people. That was when she started to cry. She realized that they were going to put the shiny silver box that her grandmother was sleeping in, in the ground. She had tried to stop them, but her Uncle Jason had picked her up and carried her away. He kept telling her that everything would be alright, but it hadn’t been.

  “Mom was mad because she thought you told Nana not to take the medicine,” she murmured, finally understanding what the fight had been about. “She was a nurse. She thought that it would help Nana get better.”

  Henry nodded, looking down at the table. “It might have prolonged Mary Rose’s life by a couple of weeks, but most likely not. Mary Rose knew that. She had accepted it when the rest of us couldn’t. She was always the smart one. She tried to tell Teresa that, but Teresa couldn’t accept that Mary Rose was ready in her own way to go,” he whispered in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. “I loved her so much. I loved you and your mother. When your mom accused me… When she said that I didn’t care about Mary Rose, I lost my temper. I was hurting, Makayla, but it was no excuse to say the things I did to your mother.”

  Makayla rose out of her chair and went to Henry when his shoulders began to shake. She had seen the tear that darkened the surface of the table. This was a strong man, a man who had lost someone he loved, just like her mom… and just like her. Not knowing what to do to help him, she did the only thing she could think of, she held him as he cried.

  Chapter 13

  The storms from the previous night had cleared by morning when she came down the stairs. She walked into the kitchen and immediately saw the note that Henry had left on the counter. Picking it up, she read the brief message saying he had gone to the grocery store and would be back soon.

  Pouring herself a glass of orange juice, she had barely taken a sip when her phone rang, the country music song her mom loved letting her know that her mom was finally returning her call. She pulled the phone out of her back pocket and swiped the connect button. Walking back to the front part of the house, she pulled open the door and stepp
ed out onto the porch.

  “Hey, mom,” Makayla said in a forced happy voice. “I was worried about you.”

  “Hi, honey,” Teresa said in a soft voice. “I saw you called. I’ve been really busy and time just sort of got away from me.”

  Makayla made a face, but didn’t let her true feelings show. The first thing she wanted to ask was what was keeping her mom so busy she didn’t have time for her daughter. She pushed that thought away as all it would do is start a fight.

  “How’s the new place? Henry said you’re living in a condo or something?” She said instead as she sank down into the rocking chair Henry had sat in last night and set her glass of orange juice down next to it.

  Teresa released a sigh that echoed over the phone. “It’s wonderful, right on the water. It… It reminds me a little bit of what it is like over there. How the counselor could find a place like this for so cheap just amazes me. I have a job, too. Nothing much, but it is a start. I’m working in a doctor’s office. Just paperwork and updating charts, but it is nice to get back into things,” she said.

  “That’s great! I can’t wait to see you,” Makayla said, pulling her legs up and resting her heels on the bar that ran across the front of the rocker. “School starts in a week. I guess I should talk to Henry about bringing me home. I will need to get my class schedule.”

  The knot in Makayla’s stomach tightened when her mom didn’t respond. It grew the longer she remained quiet. For a moment, Makayla wondered if they had gotten disconnected. She was about to check when she heard her mom draw in a deep breath.

  “I think you should stay there,” Teresa said in a barely audible voice. “At least for a little while.”

  Makayla’s feet hit the ground and she stood up. Biting her bottom lip, she paced back and forth as her mind tried to process what her mom was saying. No, she wasn’t going to stay here. She didn’t know anyone here except for Henry and Jason, now that Brian was gone. It wouldn’t have made any difference anyway. Brian had already graduated.