Jerry has come by a few times, but none of the others have. I know he’s dating Christine—or Charlotte I guess I should say. He doesn’t talk about her, though, and I respect him for that. He also doesn’t call me names anymore, which I have to admit I kind of miss. He still badgers me about the thirty dollars I owe him. “One day,” he says… One day.
As always, before visiting the hospital, I walk to Bernardo’s and order my coffee. Everyone stares at me now, but I’ve learned to ignore them. I can tell they are whispering and pointing at me. “She’s the girl who lost her sister to her psycho dad,” I bet they’re saying. It sucks living in a town where everyone knows each other.
The police did check the brakes. They had no reason to until I mentioned it. A tiny pin prick was found in the brake line. Not enough for them to fail right away, but it was enough for them to gradually lose pressure. My dad had told them that an animal had jumped out in front of us—or some bullshit story like that. No wonder the officer was looking at me funny back then. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t tell me, and he apologized for that. He said he started having suspicions, but never in a million years would he have thought that my own father would try to kill me so blatantly and so soon after attempting it the first time. He was waiting for proof before he could act. In any case, I can’t blame him. He was just doing his job. Innocent until proven guilty, right?
I stare out of the window and marvel at the day. It’s a beautiful autumn morning. Everyone is rushing to go to work and school. Me? I’m sitting here, drinking coffee because to do one of the other activities requires energy that I don’t have. I should have started college two weeks ago, but I just don’t have the heart to right now. I want to make sure my mother is better before I start studying again. I have opted to take a year off, but my mother wants me to start next month and catch up on my studies. I told her I would think about it. I can at least do that.
“Ready to start next week?” Bernardo asks, slipping a blueberry muffin onto my table. I told him last week that I would have to start looking for a job, and he offered me one on the spot. He said he needed someone anyway. I’m not sure that’s true, but I accepted the offer and said thank you.
“As I’ll ever be,” I answer with a smile.
He slips into the seat next to me to whisper. “Are you sure, honey? Because we can leave it a few more days.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I need to work. Besides, I think it will help me get my mind off things.” And the biggest thing my mind has been on is the motive for my dad’s murder. About six months before the accident, he took a huge life insurance policy out on my mother. He got one for himself too—so as not to look suspicious. I guess he wanted us all gone, so he didn’t have the responsibility of two daughters—one of whom needed to be put through college. I wondered for a while about that. When my dad said he didn’t want to buy me a car until after Montana, I of course, thought it was genuine. My father had planned all of what had happened down to the very last detail. He didn’t want to get me a car because, had his plan worked, I wouldn’t be here now to need one. I guess I would have been too much of an expense for him in the end if I had remained alive. It makes me wonder how much he truly debated “letting me live.”
However, the irony of the whole thing is that now my mother is due to inherit a rather large sum of money—large enough to allow her to not work for a long time at least. I’m glad of that as she will need time to fully recuperate.
Bernardo pats my hand. “You know I’m here if you need me. I see you every morning, sitting here on your own, and every morning, I battle with myself as to whether I should talk to you or leave you alone.”
I chuckle a little, but feel badly that I keep putting him in an awkward position. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess I just like to sit here and think. It’s all I ever do lately.”
He smiles softly at me. “I understand.” He gets up, squeezes my shoulder lightly and says, “I’ll leave you to think. I’m just over there if you ever need to chat, okay? I mean that.”
I nod with a smile. “Thanks, Bernardo. And thank you for the muffin.”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” He gives me another squeeze before walking back to the counter. I watch with a smile on my face, but when I turn back, my smile fades.
“Lily,” she says, softly. I can feel my eyes instantly sting, but I hold my tears back. I don’t want her here as she is a reminder of everything that’s fucked up… A reminder of our friendship, a reminder of her betrayal, and a reminder of him.
Once she sees my reaction, she walks swiftly towards me. “Please,” she pleads softly. “Hear me out. I only want to talk, and then, if you don’t want to see me again, then that’s fine, but please just let me talk.”
I close my eyes on a sigh. I don’t know whether I want this, but I suppose I have to have it out with her at some point. “Okay. Five minutes. I need to get to the hospital.”
She raises a half smile. “Okay, I’ll be brief. How is your mother anyway?”
I can tell she genuinely wants to know, and it hurts inside. My mother was once close to Christine as well. “She’s doing better. She woke up a few days ago, but she has a long stretch of therapy ahead of her. She’s a fighter, though, and she is eager to get home for my sake. I’m sure she’ll get better in no time.”
She nods her head, playing with her fingers. She’s nervous. “I’m sure she will. I always loved your mother—”
“Can you just say what you need to?” I cut her off because I don’t want to hear how much she loves my mother. She built our friendship on a lie. That is something I can never get over.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just… You have to know that my head at the time we became friends wasn’t totally screwed on straight. I have been living with demons for the last three years and although I’m trying to get better, it’s hard.”
Her words pain me. No matter how much I want to hate her for what she and her brother put me through, I can’t help that a big part of me still loves my best friend deeply. The part of me wishes I could take her pain away.
I don’t react, and she can tell I’m finding this difficult, so she just continues. “I just wanted to come here to let you know that this is all on me. I coerced Jarrod into this whole mess. If you want to blame someone, blame it all on me. I was the one that screwed everything up.”
“Please don’t bring him up,” I say, trying so hard not to cry. I hadn’t cried until that day at the hospital when I told my mom the news. I had been telling myself over and over again that I had had enough of the tears. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you and explain that although you may think us the worst scum of the universe right now, our feelings for you are genuine. I have to admit that I wanted to hate you. At first I did, but then I got to know the person you truly are. I had this image of a snotty, spoiled rich kid who got everything from Daddy—the daddy I was supposed to have. The daddy who was supposed to have been there for me, raised me, and protected me from the bad people.” I watch as she chokes on a small sob. It takes everything I have not to reach out to her. I am not a heartless person, but for some reason, I can’t move. I guess the hurt from what she did runs deeper than I thought. “You did everything you could to be the friend a friend is supposed to be. I tried to ignore that as I had been so consumed with revenge that I had tunnel vision. I was not a bad person, but I guess what happened to me has made me into one. I am trying to deal with that, and so is Jarrod. He only ever wanted to look after his sister. He still feels the guilt of that night. He doesn’t tell me, but I know. It’s written all over his face. I keep telling him that it was I who pushed him to work that night. It was I who decided to go home and wait for him when I should have gone to the bowling alley and waited for him there. He doesn’t listen, though. He’s a stubborn fool … just like I am.”
I clench my fist together—not in anger—but
in frustration. I want to hate her as much as she hated me, but I can’t. My heart instead reaches out to her. How she has lived with the pain of being raped and having her brother watch the whole thing must be gut-wrenching. As I think this, I remember all those months ago when she screamed at that man in Macy’s. Back then, her behavior seemed over the top, but now it all makes sense.
“Anyway,” she sighs, bringing me back to the present. I don’t talk because I’m a coward. I know I am, but my mouth seems to be glued shut. Every part of me is stuck. “I just wanted to come here and tell you that although you don’t believe me, I do love you. I love you and so does my brother. I want you to only hate me because to hate me completely means you can love my brother again. He deserves to have love in his life. You’re the only pure thing that’s ever happened to him.” I want her to stop. I desperately want her to take those words she’s uttered out of my head. I don’t want to think about him. I’m tired of it.
“Well, that’s all I really wanted to say. I don’t expect you to be my friend anymore. I know I’ve gone too far, but I hope … in time … that you can forgive me for everything I did.” I try not to look at her as she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket and places it in front of me. “This is Jarrod’s number. I know you probably don’t have most of your numbers since your phone was lost in the crash. He has no idea I’m giving it to you, and he’ll be mad as hell at me if he finds out too. I know you told him that you never wanted to see him again, and he wants to respect that, but please… Please just think it through. He’s lost without you.” I clutch my cup as she gets up from her chair. “I’m lost without you.”
I close my eyes and hear as she leaves my table. All the while, my head is screaming at me to move. To do something. I can’t leave it like this. I have to move.
Go, for fuck’s sake! Get up!
I move, scraping the chair as I get up, snatch the piece of paper from the table, grab my bag, and run out of the coffeehouse. “Christine!” I shout, tearing after her small frame as she walks swiftly down the road. She turns and the pain at seeing her tear-stained face makes me almost fall to my knees. I don’t, though. Instead, I run to her, quickly taking her into my arms.
“I’m so sorry.” The words she utters are muffled as she buries her face in the crook of my neck. I can hear them, though. Loud and clear. “I’m so, so sorry,” she says again, choking on the words. “I wish I could take back everything I did to you. I wish I could make it all better.”
I start sobbing too. I can’t help it. I am trying hard not to cry all the time, but this situation warrants it. “I wish I could too.” And I did wish it. If there was a magic spell that I could use to erase all the bad stuff, then I would use it. At the end of the day, Christine is my friend, and she’s in pain. I have to offer her at least this.
So, for a few moments, we stay like this—clutched to each other for fear that the other will fall. We stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, and for those few precious seconds, we are just Lily and Christine again. Not Lily and Charlotte or Lily and the friend who betrayed her. Just two best friends mourning all of our losses and soothing each other’s pain…
I could at least give us that.
I sit in the hospital by my mother’s side and stare once again at the piece of paper that Christine gave me.
“What seems to be holding all of your attention this morning?” I look up to see my mother smiling. She still isn’t one hundred percent, but I can definitely see some color coming back into her cheeks this morning. This is good. Very good.
“It’s nothing …”
“Don’t give me that. Lily, please. If you need to talk, then talk. I promise I will listen without judgment. I can give you advice, but it’s up to you to take it. You’re an adult now, and I have to trust your instincts… Trust that you will do the right thing by yourself. No one else. You.”
I nod my head on an exhale. My mom knows just about everything there is to know, so why not this? “I met with Christine today.”
“Oh?” she simply asks.
“She wanted to apologize for everything.”
She looks away. I can see this is as difficult for her as much as it is for me. She doesn’t feel the same grudge as I do—or once did. She just sees the pain it brings me, and I know it upsets her as it is a reminder of everything that’s happened. My mom once loved Dad deeply. This must be hard on her too. “And how did that make you feel?”
I look down at the paper and stare at the numbers on the page. I’ve stared at them for so long that I already know them by heart. “Angry at first, but upset after she spoke with me. I wanted to hate her, but I can’t—”
“You haven’t got a single bone of hatred in your body, Lily. That’s what makes you so special. Anyone can see that. It’s just not in your nature. Please don’t feel badly about that fact. It’s what makes you who you are. Please don’t ever change.”
I smile sadly at my mom as she wraps her frail hand around mine. “I know. I’m not trying to fight this anymore. In my heart of hearts, I know I’ve already forgiven them.”
“So why the long face? You seem to be clutching onto that piece of paper so tightly that I’m afraid it’s going to mold into your hand.” I start chuckling, and it makes her smile. “That’s better. That’s the Lily I know and love.”
“It’s Jarrod’s number,” I say, getting right to the point. “Christine gave it to me. She asked that I pour all my hate onto her because she is the one who orchestrated it. He just fell in line out of loyalty to his sister.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“Sad,” I say honestly. “She’s been through so much and yet still she asks to sacrifice herself for her brother.”
My mom smiles. “Then, I guess being friends with you really did rub off on her.”
I smile back and then look down at the paper again. “I just don’t know what to do.” I know she knows I mean the number. I should throw it away, but I can’t. It’s like my crutch.
“Lily,” Mom says, gaining my attention. “I can’t tell you what to think and feel. Only you can decide that for yourself. How did you feel when you were with him? Be honest.”
I smile, capturing all the memories in my head. It doesn’t take much to remember the way it felt when his fingers brushed against my skin, the way his smell invaded my senses so deeply, and the way my heart and body ached when I wasn’t near him. Only one word always springs to mind when I think of him. “Alive, Mom. He made me feel alive.”
She squeezes my hand. “The only thing I can suggest then is to go back to that place—the one where you found forgiveness—and see if you can find a spot there for Jarrod. You found forgiveness in your heart of hearts. Look there for Jarrod. Once you’re there, you’ll know. All I want for you is to be happy, so whatever you decide, I’ll be behind you one hundred percent.”
I press a small kiss on the back of my mother’s hand. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”
Before going home, I pick up a few things from the drug store, and all the way home, I curse myself. I’m a bright girl, but I guess not so bright when it comes to some things.
Once I’m in the confines of Elle’s bedroom, I place the stuff down on the bed and walk into my old room. The place has been cleaned since. New carpets were installed, so there is no evidence of my dad lying in a pool of blood on the floor anymore.
I shudder as I walk past and make my way to my computer desk. As I open the drawer, sure enough, it’s right there, staring back at me. I had forgotten all about it.
I take it out of the drawer, hastily retreating back out of my old room and shutting the door behind me. I walk back into Elle’s room, throw what I have in my hand into the bin, and sit down staring at the piece of paper again.
I must have changed my mind at least a dozen times since leaving the hospital. I have had many battles with both my head and my heart over what Jarrod did, but the truth always remains the same in my heart. Desp
ite what he did, everything he said was true. The only thing he lied about was never hurting me. I believe he meant physically, but it still cuts to the bone when I think of it.
I sigh, staring down at the scars on my leg and now my arm. I trace a line from one end to the other on my arm, and all the while, Jarrod is never far from my mind. He and I are very much alike in a lot of ways now. We both have scars on the inside and out. We both were broken from tragedies and the losses that came with them.
I close my eyes, willing myself to act. I already knew the answer to the burning question. I just didn’t want the outcome of what I will learn today to either encourage or discourage me. I needed to do this based on right now and the way that I feel I can’t possibly be without him.
So, without a moment’s thought, I pick up the new phone I bought around a month ago and stare at the screen for a while. With slightly trembling hands, I punch in his number and hit SAVE. I can’t talk with him… That’s a little too much too soon, but I will text him at least. I can do that.
Me: I’ve tried to live without you, but you’ve made that impossible. I should hate you for that, but somehow I can’t find any hate … only love. I have forgiven you, but I can’t forget. In time, I will be able to live my life again, but I know now that I can’t do that without you. You did say I had all the control. Well, this is me asking you to come back to me. This is me asking you to make me feel alive again.
My thumb hovers over the SEND button. A part of me still rages that what he did is something I should never forgive. He hurt me so much that it tears me up from the inside out. But, in the end, I know my mother is right. I am not the type who hates people. I have never hated anyone in my life before. The closest contender is my so-called father, and even in that case, I can’t bring myself to totally hate the man. He was pathetic. How can I hate someone so pitiful?
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