He spotted her. “Hey.” He sounded a bit leery and maybe confused. “A shipment came in, and I…I thought the place was empty.”
“Not a problem. Just leave it.”
“Okay. But there’s more than this one.”
She nodded, and he took the box to the loft. She continued with the windows. Staying busy was cathartic. In this bizarre world, being useful was admired and appreciated, much like getting good grades or having an outstanding performance was in her normal world. She’d come to enjoy all sorts of work—from whatever was needed at the café to feeding livestock, milking cows, and occasional gardening. But the horses were still her favorite. She’d had no idea people did anything to a vegetable garden in October, but apparently some produce, like kale, red cabbage, beets, and Brussels sprouts, was harvested. Looking back, she realized that the first time she pulled items from the garden and they used them to make a meal, the connection between the earth and the kitchen table had an addictive feel to it, much like spending time with the horses. When the last of the produce had been gathered for the fall, she thought that work was done, but evidently November was the season to spread organic matter, turn the soil with a hoe, wait a few weeks, and repeat with a different organic matter. Seemed a bit crazy, but she liked working the garden. Well, at least looking back on it, she liked it. At the time she’d been annoyed by it because, for her, drugs murdered all pleasure other than using. She still hadn’t heard from Cody, and she was grateful he’d abandoned her.
Jackson bounded down the steps. He was very agile for his size and build. “I’ll grab the last two boxes and be gone.”
He barely glanced at her. She nodded anyway. The strain between them was still tangible, but it had seemed different lately. His body language and the way he watched her when he didn’t think she noticed made her think that he no longer wanted to avoid her even though he continued to do so. Not that it mattered. She reminded him of his mother. Besides, it’d been ten weeks since she’d last seen Cody, and she’d survived just fine without a guy in her life. Actually, she liked it—liked that she was managing her emotions rather than the other way around, liked that she was beginning to feel somewhat whole without a guy stroking her ego and promising her she ruled her world. No one ruled their own world. Some thought they did, but she knew better.
She poured cream into a container and set it on the counter along with the sugar.
Piecing together her thoughts, understanding the essence of who she was came easier these days. Living Amish was murder on a social life and all things technological, but it was good for the soul—the intense quiet, the nonstop physical work, the ocean of love. She’d been clean since November 10. Nine weeks without worldly noise, peer pressure, or parental discord had equaled time without any drugs, legal or otherwise. It was funny that the things she’d hated most about the Amish lifestyle were the things that gave her the strength to stay clean. For better or worse, the Amish were one ironclad connected group. She often felt as if she were a puppy in a large litter. It was difficult to breathe as her littermates piled on top of her, but it was also a warm, safe feeling. Rather than fighting to be free, she had relaxed under the mound, able to breathe better there than anywhere else in this crazy world. But she would never, ever become Amish. They believed in a God who didn’t exist, but that belief yielded a lot of love and contentment.
As Jackson walked back toward the stairs, she saw something fall from the bottom of the box, and she gasped for fear it was breaking open.
“What?” Jackson stopped, looking at the floor around him.
She walked over to him. “Oh, nothing. Sorry.” She picked up several packing peanuts. “I thought the box was breaking.” She held them out. “It was just these.”
“You okay?” Jackson remained in place. If he really wanted much of an answer, he would set the box on a table for a few minutes.
“I’m swinging from preoccupied to jittery.”
“I sorta picked up on that. Why?”
“My parents, the non-Amish ones, are coming here today.”
“That explains your overreaction to a falling packing peanut.”
She and Jackson sounded like really bad actors reading for parts—monotone and awkward.
Quiet stress wasn’t her only issue. Anger and hurt churned inside her much like they used to do every day, and now the emotions made more sense to her. It came naturally to her to feel that her best efforts in the arts and school were never good enough, that she was a disappointment to her parents. But she didn’t want to blame them.
Jackson seemed to be waiting for her to assure him he could go. Maybe teasing would help. “I’m not intense. Just really, really alert.”
“Yeah, real stress is when you suddenly sit up in bed screaming, only to realize you hadn’t fallen asleep yet, right?” His eyes held understanding as he stepped around her. “Life,” he said sarcastically as he headed for the stairs.
Despite their agreement to avoid each other, they inadvertently dropped their guard on occasion, and what flowed between them was usually honest, painfully so at times. But there was also quick banter and unexpected humor before they retreated to their respective corners. But not today. She was too out of sorts, and he’d been caught off guard by her being here. The interesting thing about Jackson and Skylar is they didn’t need a lot of words to understand each other. That was sort of nice, and it kept her from falling into her natural state of neediness. She didn’t want to be that person anymore.
“Sarcasm. Just one of the many services we offer at Brennemans’ Perks,” she responded, raising her voice as he went up the steps.
“Exactly,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll be gone in less than a minute.”
“You’re fine. It feels weird being here alone anyway.”
“I bet.” He disappeared into the loft.
If the Brennemans were even slightly more average Americans, just churchgoing Americans, like Methodists or something, she would consider staying closer to them, maybe ask to rent the loft or find a nearby place to rent. If God was love and nothing more—not part of a bunch of archaic writings—maybe He or She did exist in a universe far, far away. At least that would explain the very real sense of love her Amish parents and siblings had inside them and gave to her. It was tangible, and she supposed it had to come from somewhere.
Headlights reflected in the window as a car pulled into a parking space in front of the café. The lights went off, and she saw her dad behind the wheel and her mom in the passenger’s seat. She rubbed her forehead, wishing she believed in prayer.
Jackson came down the steps. “You can do it.”
“Sure. I can do something, say something. The question is, can I make myself say the right things in the right way?”
She wanted to be kind and let them off the hook. There was no need for them to be her parents in any shape or form. After a lifetime of feeling insecure, she knew that her insecurities were to a large extent just her nature. Based on conversations she’d had with Abram, he dealt with the same kind of self-doubt she did. So that wasn’t her mom’s or dad’s fault. It was just life, she guessed. But when Mom and Dad learned she wasn’t theirs, they took back the gifts they’d given her. Removed her from college and withdrew all promises of paying for her education. If that wasn’t enough, they took her car, her phone, and her allowance.
Then they dumped her here as fast as they could.
No, that wasn’t actually true. They had Quill pick her up and chauffeur her as needed while they drove here to get Ariana. And those were just the highlights of her proof that they’d been more than ready to dump her and take Ariana. Her mom used to love her dearly, and their relationship had flourished. But it had been taxed the last couple of years. And when the news came that Skylar wasn’t actually theirs, it was a death blow.
Dad and Mom got out of the car, and fragments of memories assaulted her—some as warm as sunshine in spring and some as harsh as winter winds. They stepped onto the curb and he
aded for the door of the café.
Jackson moved in front of her, blocking her view of them. “If you’re worried about protecting them, don’t be. Thinking that way could make you cave in to what they want. Every word should have only one goal—protecting yourself—so that when they leave, you’ve done nothing that will undo your progress. Be kind if you can, but do it for the right reasons—your peace and contentment.” He held up his index finger. “One goal, Skylar: self-preservation. You’ve come too far to let anyone unravel you.”
Jackson sounded like a trainer talking to a prizefighter in a boxing ring. And she realized he was pulling for her.
A tap on the glass startled her. Her mom and dad were just outside the door, waiting on her, but she couldn’t get her feet to move.
Jackson gestured with his thumb. “You need me to open it?”
She drew a breath, trying to shake the feeling of being immobile. “I thought you just said I could do this.”
“Sometimes we need a nudge.”
She pushed his shoulder. “That’s me nudging you to get out.”
He stared into her eyes. “Call me if you want.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t know much, but she knew she didn’t need a man to rescue her. Not anymore. Somehow in this land stripped of all normalcy, she’d reinvented herself to a small degree.
As Jackson went out the back door, Skylar opened the front one. Mom rushed forward and hugged her. Skylar wanted both to engulf her and to step away. A moment later she returned the hug. Missing her mom had been a constant.
“I love you so much,” Mom whispered.
Skylar wanted to return the words, but love for either of them seemed buried under her anger and pain. When she backed away, Mom was smiling. Skylar couldn’t return the smile. That would be like an affirmation that everything between them was okay. And it wasn’t.
“We’ve missed you so very much.” She cupped Skylar’s cheek in her hand.
“Did you?” Then why hadn’t she heard from them?
“Yes.” Mom fisted her hands tight, making them tremble. “Love you with all my might.”
Skylar remembered them making that gesture and saying those words all the time when she was little. Often several times a day.
Dad looked uncomfortable, but he moved forward and hugged her. Skylar’s arms hung limp at her side. When he released her, she gestured to a table. As they took a seat, she went behind the counter and poured two mugs of coffee.
“This is a really charming café, isn’t it?” Mom smiled while looking around.
Skylar set the steaming mugs on the table. “It is.” She grabbed the cream and sugar off the counter and sat down with them.
“How are you, Sky?” Dad asked.
“Good. Better.”
“Then everything is okay?” he asked.
Everything? He was kidding, right? She hated the angry sarcasm that churned inside her. It had seemed to melt away in the last couple of months, but here it was again, making her feel like an ungrateful brat. “No, everything isn’t okay. But some things are.”
“Sweetie.” Mom’s voice burrowed deep. “You said you’re better, which is great. Do you mind if I ask in what ways?”
“I’m clean. Completely.”
Dad clapped, making a thunderous sound. “That’s great, honey.”
When had she become honey to him? He hadn’t wanted her mom to have her, and he hadn’t given a dime of child support until she was four or five years old. The story she’d heard was that his new wife had influenced him to get involved in Skylar’s life. A perfect stranger to Skylar had wielded more power over her dad than she ever had. She longed to mutter, “I’m not your honey.”
Mom reached for her hand. “We wanted to see you before you come back. You know, to make some plans for the future.”
Skylar eased her hand free and slid both into her lap. “So it’s true. Despite everything, you didn’t manage to get Ariana to stay even three months.”
“She wanted to go home, and we thought maybe you were thinking the same thing.” Her smile quivered.
“Skylar,”—Dad softened his voice almost to a whisper—“now that you’re clean—”
“I’m your daughter again?”
He flinched as if she’d hit him.
“You’ve always been our daughter,” Mom said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Really?” Skylar pulled out her phone and went to the YouTube clip of them singing with Ariana. She turned it toward them. “Look at your faces. Listen to the passion in your voices as you sing to her. She’s your daughter.”
Dad lowered his eyes. “She’s one of our daughters. You are our daughter also, Sky Blue. And for those times I’ve not treated you as though you were or as you deserved, I’m so very sorry. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and give me another chance. If I were you and I saw that clip, my feelings would be hurt too. And I’m not sure what to say to help you see how important you are to us.”
Skylar couldn’t believe her ears. He was apologizing for being a jerk most of her life? Had his coziness with Ariana melted his frozen heart?
He pushed his coffee to the side. “But your mom doesn’t deserve for you to question her love and loyalty. She could not have loved you more, sticking to you like glue, enjoying being your mom, working so hard to support your dreams. It sounds as if you’re angry at us for sending you here. You’re clean now. So I would say this has been a success.”
“Stop!” Skylar was shaking as she covered her ears. “Are you pleased with yourself about this success? Your child, who isn’t even yours, is clean. So now you want to return to pretending you care?”
Mom reached across the table, trying to touch Skylar’s arm. “Skylar, please—”
“You dropped me like a hot potato, Mom. Did you want to do that, or did you let him bully you into one more thing you disagreed with?”
“I…I thought you were doing well here. Has it been that bad?” he asked.
“No, actually it hasn’t. But this isn’t about the Brennemans or how I’m doing. This is about you two shoving me out the door, taking everything away from me, and not checking on me once these past three months!” Why was she yelling at them? What happened to not blaming them?
“Sky, honey.” Mom’s eyes held disbelief. “You came here instead of rehab, and we took everything, just as we would have if you had chosen rehab. But there are phones, and we were giving you space to call or not call as you saw fit.”
“But I see how it must’ve looked,” Dad added. “In my mind you pushed us away, Sky. You were angry, told us to give you space, and didn’t even want us to drive you here, insisting Quill do that.”
Was that accurate? That’s not at all how she remembered it. Then again, she had been high a lot back then.
“We’ve made mistakes, a lot of mistakes. Me most of all,” he said. “None of them was a declaration that we didn’t care about you. We’re here now. Let’s talk and figure out what you need so we can move forward.”
She shook her head. “No. You wanted a new daughter, and you got her.”
Mom wiped away tears. “You can’t really believe that’s what happened.”
Skylar pointed a finger at her dad. “I think that’s what he wanted, and I think you were hopeful about having a clean slate with someone who wasn’t me.”
Maybe Skylar was wrong, but his green eyes seemed to hold a truth he would never say—that he and Ariana had bonded in ways he and Skylar never would. Never could.
“I deserve your resentment,” he said. Then he lowered his voice. “I was a jerk to your mom for years, and I ignored you. I regret that. When I look at how I acted, my heart literally hurts. When Lynn and I married, she poked and prodded me until I began to understand how wrong I was.”
“See, I don’t get that. Why would Lynn be the one to make you understand that I had some value to you?”
“I…I don’t know. I was self-absorbed, and until her children entered my life, I’d never been around chi
ldren enough to realize how vulnerable they are. Even then I bumbled in being a parent to you. Often causing a lot of pain. I tried to control your mom and you rather than nurture you. That’s been made abundantly clear to me, and if I could go back, I’d do it differently. I promise I would. But your mom gladly gave up every opportunity for herself in order to make your life as good as she could. Criticize me if you want to, but you’re not being fair to her.”
Skylar hadn’t prepared herself for him accepting any blame or respecting Mom, who was crying. Is this what Skylar wanted—to hurt them the way they’d hurt her? Remorse flooded her.
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
She rushed to Skylar and pulled her to her feet. “I love you, Sky Blue. I’ve missed you so much.” She held her tight. “Not a day has gone by without Gabe saying how the house feels so empty without you.”
That felt good to hear, but Skylar was sure Cameron never said anything like that.
Skylar hugged her back. “I love you too, Mom.” At least she thought she did. She wasn’t good at understanding what it meant to truly love someone. Still, it was the right thing to say. “But I don’t think I’m coming back anytime soon.”
Mom grabbed her shoulders and backed up, staring into her eyes. “What?” She looked at Dad as if to say, “Fix this!”
Had he been more of a support to her mom over the years than Skylar knew?
He stood. “I’ve changed, Sky Blue. I’d like a chance—”
“I can’t.” Skylar should hug him, but all she managed was a brief smile. “I appreciate it, though.”
“Is this your way of rebelling against me?” he asked. “Ariana is returning to this nightmare of a religion, and you’re choosing to stay?”
Was it? “I don’t think so.”
“I can’t imagine any other reason you wouldn’t want to come home.”
“I’m not fully sure why either, except this has been a fresh start for me, and I’m not ready to leave.”
Fraying at the Edge Page 30
