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This Is Forever

Page 8

by Natasha Madison


  “Why do you do this to me?” he asks.

  “I also need for you not to tell anyone.” I add that in even though I know he’ll tell Karrie.

  “Jesus, did you get a girl pregnant?” I know he’s talking between clenched teeth. “How many times did I tell you to wrap it up? Jesus,” he says and doesn’t stop. “Are you going to marry her?”

  “Okay. One, I didn’t get anyone pregnant,” I say. “That’s your job.”

  “Hey,” he snaps. “I was always going to marry her, but I just had to convince her.”

  “You mean trick her,” I joke with him. He and Karrie met when she was his chaperone, and then she got pregnant. There was no denying he loved her with everything that he had, but he was also a caveman. “Anyway. I met someone,” I say it out loud, admitting it to the universe.

  “Okay,” he says, waiting for the rest.

  “She’s a mom, and her son attends the hockey camp.”

  “Justin,” he says my name almost like a warning.

  “I know what you’re going to say.” I lean forward on the bench, putting my elbows on my knees.

  “There is a lot I want to say, but the first thing I’m going to say is that if you don’t think you can give her what she needs, then you need to walk away.”

  “I know that, Matthew.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. This isn’t just one person,” he says as if I don’t fucking know. “You can’t think with your dick this time.”

  “Matthew,” I hiss. “It’s not like that.”

  “What are you saying?” he asks, and I take a deep breath.

  “I mean that I like her a lot.” My heart beats fast, but then my chest constricts when I tell him the next part. “She’s had a rough time. I don’t know the details, and I’m afraid to ask, but she isn’t giving me the time of day. I want to just help her,” I say softly. “I want to just be there for her.”

  “You have to knock her walls down,” he says.

  “I don’t know how,” I say. “I’ve never been here. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than for her to sit down with me and tell me everything. I want her to know that I don’t want to solve her problems but to help be by her side.”

  “Have you told her this?” he asks.

  “No,” I say quietly, almost whispering. “I’m afraid to.” I look up at the sun. “She has a lot to her past. I don’t know much, but I met one of them, and he isn’t the friendly neighborhood type.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “How in are you?”

  I think about my answer just as I’ve been thinking about this whole thing for the past couple of days, and that is what it has been … a couple of days. But just the thought of not seeing her hurts my heart. The thought of going a day without her makes it almost hard to breathe. “I’m all in.”

  “Then you need to sit with her and put all your cards on the table. You need to tell her.”

  “What if she …” I start. “What if she’s overwhelmed by it?”

  “Then you show her,” he says. “She has probably had people promise her things before.” His tone is soft. “But they were probably empty promises, so you have to show her that you are a man who stands behind his promises.”

  “Yeah,” I say, and then I hear my name being called and look back to see Ralph is trying to get my attention. “I have to go.”

  “Okay. Call me for anything,” he says. “You hear?”

  “Yeah,” I say into the phone and then hold up my hand to Ralph. “I’ll call you later,” I say, disconnecting, then getting up and walking to meet Ralph. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, but Dylan was looking for you,” he says, and we turn to walk inside.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask. My heart had started to beat faster, thinking he was hurt, but then I see him playing basketball with the other kids, and he looks up and sees me.

  “Justin,” he yells, “I got a three-pointer!” His eyes beam with pride, and his smile is so big that his eyes crinkle at the sides. “It even went swish.”

  “That’s amazing, buddy,” I say. Standing, I watch the game with my hands on my hips, already setting a plan for tonight into motion.

  I get into the truck after buckling Dylan in and call Caroline’s number. “The customer you are calling is unavailable at the moment. Please try again later.” I look at the phone and then hang up, and during the forty-five-minute drive, I spend most of the time speeding and trying to tell myself that she just turned off her phone. I try not to think about the trouble she could be in or the trouble that is always lurking around her.

  We get there, and now I’m about to crawl out of my skin when I grab the hockey bag from the truck and walk toward her apartment. We walk up the stairs, and Dylan goes on and on, but I’m not even focusing on him. I’m focusing on the fact that I need to make sure Caroline is okay. When we get to the door and Dylan turns the knob, it’s locked. I’m both happy and then worried. What if she got hurt somewhere and her phone is broken? The what-ifs are playing over in my head, so I don’t even hear Dylan knock on the door nor do I hear the door unlock and open, but I do see her face, and I step back. “Mom,” Dylan says, and she switches right away before my eyes.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing his head. “How was your day?”

  “Good. Justin had a one-on-one with Ralph, and he won,” he says to her, “and then I played basketball, and I scored a three-pointer.”

  She smiles down at him, and he doesn’t see the redness in her eyes or on the tip of her nose. “Did you score all the points one after another?”

  “No, Mom,” he says, going to the fridge and opening it, his eyes going wide. “The fridge is full.” And it’s at that moment my heart sinks for her. This woman who puts on the bravest face is now having all of it in front of me. “Can I have a Yop?” he asks, wanting a yogurt drink.

  “Yes,” she says and then looks at me. “Was everything okay?”

  “Yes.” I want to take her in my arms and kiss her softly and hold her and be her rock. I’m about to bring up the fact that her phone was off and that I tried to call her when the front door suddenly opens, and I turn to see who it is. I don’t have to guess for long when I hear Dylan yell.

  “Dad!” he says, running to this guy standing there with dirty clothes and stringy hair. His arms are bare and skinny, and you can see the scabs on the inside creases of his arms.

  Dylan wraps his arms around his waist, but the guy doesn’t even notice because his gaze is fixated on me. I’m watching him, but more importantly, I feel Caroline stiffen beside me.

  “Who is this?” the man finally asks. It’s almost as if he’s accusing us of something. I want to step in front of Caroline, but before I can do that, she speaks up.

  “He’s nobody, and he was just leaving.” Her voice comes out strong and firm. I look at her. “Thank you for bringing Dylan home. We’ll see you tomorrow.” And just like that, my heart breaks for the woman who I thought was mine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caroline

  My day went from amazing to kick in the stomach yet again. And I’m suddenly reminded not to ever get my hopes up again. Every single time I think things are looking up, someone somewhere says “Not today.”

  I got my groceries for just under a hundred dollars. With the leftover food stamps that I had and shopping the sales, I was winning. Then I was about to cook dinner and thinking of doing something nice for Justin after everything he’s done for me, but when I went to call him, I got sent to the collections department. Since it was my third time being late, they couldn’t do anything unless I paid off the total due, which at this time was going to be impossible. I had just hung up the phone when I heard a knock on the door, and when I opened it, Justin stood there with a worried look on his face.

  I avoided eye contact, knowing full well he could probably tell I’ve been crying again. But then everything happened so fast—the joy of Dylan finally seeing the old frid
ge full to the front door swinging open. Andrew’s eyes went straight to Justin, and the only thing I could think of was to get him as far away from Andrew as I possibly could.

  “He’s nobody, and he was just leaving,” I say in my firmest voice possible. Justin turns his head to look at me, and I see the hurt in his eyes, but it’s better this way. “Thank you for bringing Dylan home. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He looks at me one last time before nodding and turning to walk out of the apartment. The sound of the door softly closing behind him is almost too much for me. Heading to the kitchen, I turn on the tap to get some water, and the whole time, I’m fighting the stinging of tears in my eyes.

  “So is that a new boyfriend?” Andrew asks, and I don’t turn to him. “Dylan, go to your room while your mom and me talk.”

  “But, Dad,” he says but then just walks away. I wait for the door to close before I turn around and look at him.

  “Get the fuck out,” I say in a voice so soft it’s like a whisper.

  “Oh, what’s the matter, Caroline? Sad that your boyfriend left with his tail between his legs.” He taunts me. “I should remind you that we are still married.”

  “Really?” I say. “I should have reminded you about that when Dylan was six months old and you fucked the sorority girls, or when he was two and your girlfriend showed up in the middle of the night.” I put up my hand. “No, it was when I walked in on you fucking our landlady when Dylan was three.”

  “That was a mistake!” he shouts, and I just shake my head.

  “I don’t even care,” I say. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need a place to crash until tomorrow,” he says. He walks to the fridge, and I see his hands shake just a touch.

  “No freaking way are you going to stay here while you’re high,” I say, shaking my head. “Not a chance in hell.”

  “I’m not high,” he says. Grabbing the chocolate milk that I splurged on for Dylan, he opens the top and drinks straight out of the container. “I’m just a little shaky. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “Yeah,” I say, shaking my head. “I bet.” I might have been in the dark at the beginning, but after all this time, I know the signs. He’s coming down from his high, and if he doesn’t get it soon, he’s going to get all grumpy and then twitchy.

  “Look, I just need a shower and a place to crash, and then I’ll be gone,” he says, and I keep telling myself it’s the last time. I can’t do this anymore, that next time it’s going to be a no and get out. “You just have to tell your boyfriend to come back tomorrow,” he says with a sneer before he walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

  “Give me strength,” I say under my breath, and the bedroom door opens and out comes Dylan.

  “Where is Dad?” he asks, looking around, and then he hears the shower turn on. “Is Justin your boyfriend?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head, “he’s not.” I ignore the way my chest feels. “What do you want to eat for dinner?” I ask, ignoring the singing from the shower.

  “Do we have fish sticks?” he asks, hopeful that I picked up his favorite ones, and I just smile and nod my head. “Yes,” he says, closing his fist and cocking it back.

  I make dinner for the three of us, and Dylan tells him all about the hockey camp and all about his new skates. Then they sit down and watch hockey videos, or actually Dylan watches the videos while Andrew sleeps. I want to kick him to tell him to get the fuck up and get the fuck out. I look at the man I once loved, or at the very least liked a lot, and I decide this is the last time I let him come into my home. This is the last time I help him.

  When it’s time for bed, I close the door and slip in with Dylan. “Good night,” I say to Dylan, and by the time I turn to face him, he is softly snoring. I don’t know what time I fall asleep, but I hear the door open and then close, and I know that Andrew has gone. Walking out to the living room, I find the couch empty and go to the door and lock it behind him.

  I don’t sleep the rest of the night. I toss and turn, and when my alarm goes off the next morning, I drag myself out of bed. The thick air in the room is making it unbearable. “I’m going to take a shower,” I tell Dylan, who just grumbles and turns to go back to sleep. I walk to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light and step under the cool water. With my eyes closed, I think about the only thing I have been thinking about all night. Justin. His face, the hurt in his eyes, the way my chest hurt when he walked away. I put up walls for this reason. I put up walls so I don’t have this pain anymore.

  I get out and dry myself off, ignoring the voices in my head telling me he’s different. I know he is. He comes from a great family, and he is going to make some woman very, very happy. I slip my shorts back on, and when I open the door, I stop in my tracks when I find Dylan standing there with tears running down his face. “He took it,” he says between sobs and hitched breaths. He’s holding the hockey bag, and all the new equipment is gone. “He took it all.”

  A hand goes to my mouth as I watch my son’s world shatter. “Honey, I’m sure he’ll bring it back,” I say, knowing full well that I am lying to him. It’s gone; it’s all gone. “Why don’t you put on what you were wearing yesterday, and you can take your other equipment for the day? I’ll drive around and see if I can find your dad.”

  “Justin gave me all that stuff,” he says, sitting down now. “It was all new.” I walk to him and sit next to him as he cries in my arms. I thought I hated Andrew before, but I was wrong. This right here is the last straw. I’m done trying to be the good person, and I’m done trying to pretend that everything is fine in front of Dylan. I never wanted him to know about his father and the demons that he had, but I can’t hide him from it anymore. I can shield him as much as I can, but I refuse to have Dylan hurt this way again.

  “I know, honey, and I’m going to get it back,” I say, and if I can’t, I’m going to beg, borrow, and steal to make sure that he has it tomorrow. “Go get your stuff on and have some breakfast. I bought you some Toaster Strudels.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he says, getting up and going into the bedroom. I pop a couple of strudels into the toaster and pack them in a container, and when he comes out, he is carrying his old bag over his shoulder. His eyes are still red with tears.

  “Ready?” I ask, and he just nods his head. I don’t know if Justin is coming this morning. I don’t know if he will be waiting, and I’m not going to let myself get my hopes up. Dylan’s shoulders are slumped as we walk down the stairs, and I stop and take the bag from him, putting it over my shoulder.

  We walk down the sidewalk, and I see Justin standing near his SUV, and I want to smile at him. I want to do so many things, but I don’t have a chance because when he looks right past me and straight to Dylan, he steps forward to meet us. The whole time, his eyes never leave Dylan’s, and when we are close enough, he asks right away with a panic in his voice. “What happened?” He gets down in front of Dylan, and my boy is trying so hard not to cry in front of him. He is trying so hard to be brave, but Justin just holds out his arms, and he walks into them. His arms wrap around his neck, and I look at him in his shorts and a T-shirt, and he’s wearing a baseball hat today. “What’s the matter?” he whispers to Dylan, and I want to tell him that he’s fine, and that everything is okay.

  “It’s gone,” he says softly, and then Justin looks at me, and I finally see his eyes. He looks as if he hasn’t slept all night.

  “What’s gone?” he asks, and Dylan finally stands there, not making eye contact with Justin. I was wrong before. I hate Andrew even more now.

  “All my new stuff,” he says, and his voice is so low you can barely hear him. Justin puts his hand under Dylan’s chin and raises it. “I’m sorry.”

  He looks at him. “Things happen,” he says. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to it.”

  “No,” Dylan says.

  “Sometimes things happen, and it’s not our fault, and we feel bad about it,” Justin says. “Just lik
e once when I took my brother’s hockey card to school. I was so proud that it was signed, and then I handed it to my friend, and it fell out of his hands and into a puddle.” Dylan looks at him with open eyes, and he wipes the tears away from his face. “I remember picking it up so fast and wiping it on my shirt, but the card was still soft, and it started to peel.” He tells him the story, and my heart just explodes. “I remembered being so scared to tell my dad that I hid it from him for a year.” Dylan gasps.

  “Was your dad mad?” he asks, and Justin just shakes his head.

  “Just like I’m not mad,” he says, “but I am sad for you because I know how much you loved your new stuff.”

  “Yeah,” he says and then looks at me. “But my mom said she’s going to try to get the stuff back.”

  I’m waiting for Justin to look up at me, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything but look at Dylan. “How about we get some breakfast before heading to the rink?”

  “I’m starving,” Dylan says, and now I’m the one about to gasp.

  “Let’s get going,” he says, and Dylan just nods and walks toward the vehicle.

  “Justin,” I say his name almost in a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he says, and the way he looks at me, I want to reach out and grab his hand. “We should get going.”

  “What?” I ask, surprised. After everything that I’ve done and said to this man, he still came out and helped us. He is still going to give me his SUV to get to work. “After everything that just went down, you are still going to go out of your way to help us?”

  He stands now and shrugs. “I said I would help you, and I keep my word.” He looks at Dylan, who is getting in the SUV as though he’s always been doing it. “It’s not my place to say anything, but he deserves better.” He takes off his hat and scratches his head. “You both do.”

  Chapter Thirteen

 

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