Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

by Wendy L. Wilson

  “Okay,” I pause, working to think of the best wording that will help him to not shut down immediately. I guess in that aspect I’m a lot like Dad. He closes down, shuts off and refuses to go any further when unwanted memories start to consume him like an avalanche. “Just try to keep an open mind, okay?”

  “Just go on, Piper…what is it?”

  Well, no use beating around the bush; all I’m doing is irritating him. “So after everybody left tonight, me and Evan were going through some old photo albums. Now I know this is going to sound totally off-the-wall, but Evan swears your little sister looks like someone he knows.”

  My father gasps, “Who?! Where does he know her from?!” As soon as I hear the urgency in my father’s voice as if he stumbled upon something just like Evan and I did, I know that Tristan could be right.

  I go on, filling him in on everything I know, everything me and Evan discussed while he was texting back and forth with Judd and Jake. “Well I haven’t found out all the information, but Evan is actually talking to Tristan. I wasn’t sure if I would hear back from you until tomorrow morning so he went ahead and left so that he could go find Judd and Jake.…”

  “Yes okay, but what about my sister; he thinks he knows her?”

  Shaking my head even though he can’t see me, I hold my hand trying to halt him so that I can finish, “I’m getting to that. Ok, so Evan thought she looked just like Jake, Judd and Tristan’s mom. Judd told Evan that she used to live not far from here and that they spent a couple of summers right here at the lake.”

  “Piper I don’t think…”

  I don’t let him say anymore, “Wait, let me finish. From what Judd said, he had heard from his mom years ago that she had gotten pregnant when she was very young and her parents refused to accept it. Judd said she was only sixteen or seventeen when she had Tristan. He had no idea if she had a brother or where his mom’s family was from, but he did remember coming out here a couple of times when he was little.” Dad doesn’t say anything; silence stretches out. “Dad are you there?”

  He clears his throat again, this time appearing to push down a tremor of emotion. “Yeah,” but I can still hear it in his voice as he speaks, “I’m here sweetie. Did you happen to catch her name?”

  My heart leaps into my throat, knowing this is it. Should I text Evan first; Judd or Jake? Or do I just find out, then let them know? I proceed with the latter, “Her name was Hailey.”

  Once I hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, no other words are needed. Dad sniffles, and my heart breaks with the realization that there is one more piece of the puzzle that I haven’t told him, but just as I’m beginning to speak up he cuts me off.

  “Was?”

  I slam my eyes closed, grind my teeth together and clench my fists, not believing that I could be so stupid to choose that type of wording. Dammit!

  “Dad…” Now I’m all sorts of confused on whether I should say anything at all. “Did you want me to have Judd call you? Maybe…fill you in?” I raise one shoulder, giving a crooked shrug of sorts as I uncomfortably squirm. I’d rather do anything than be the bearer of this news.

  He takes another deep breath, and I know he is mustering up all the strength he can find. I have to do this.

  “Honey, you said her name was Hailey…” As he stops talking I pick up on every other sound on his side of the phone including a loud gulp as he gathers his courage and his shaky breaths. “My sister’s name is Hailey.”

  My freehand slides up to the center of my chest. Clawing gently, I collect a handful of my sweater as a sense of comfort to my heart; or more so Dad’s.

  I wish Evan was here. “Ummm… You know, I could probably text Evan and he would come back over…” A frustrated huff of air comes over the line; I stop midsentence.

  “Sweetie…” His voice carries a smooth eloquent calmness, similar to the day he found out what happened to me. “I haven’t seen my sister since she was sixteen years old. I’ve never known what happened to her, whether she had a family or got married, if she was happy or anything. Nothing. She was just gone one day. Mom and Dad told me she emancipated herself and for me to let it be. I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. Our families always came out to this cabin and that was why I started bringing mine. I had hoped that someday, she would be here again and maybe, just maybe I would reconnect with her. So honey, whatever you know, please don’t be afraid to tell me. If this girl, your friend’s mom is my sister, which it sounds more and more like it could be, knowing anything is better than knowing nothing,” the plea in his voice is undeniable and he’s right; he needs closure.

  A sharp jolt hits me and again, I stare down to the letter that is shoved into the pocket of my clothes; that same thing is true for me. Releasing a breath, I relent on letting him know all that I do until he can meet with Judd, Tristan and Jake; he needs this. Telling him everything may be all it takes to fix what has been broken inside.

  Smiling through misted-over eyes, I open my mouth and let it out. “Well, she lived in Rosemore. I went to school with all three of her sons. Her oldest is named Tristan, and he is 21 or 22…” I roll my eyes, not wanting to dive into what sort of a womanizer he is, before moving on. “Then there is Judd, he was a year behind me in school and Jake is a little younger.” I collect my thoughts, suck in a mouthful of air and go on, “Evan said Hailey got sick several years back and she passed away the same year he met Judd.” I don’t hear a sound on the other end as I deliver this dreaded news; nothing. “Dad?” my voice quivers.

  “I’m here, sweetie.” He stops talking, and I tumble over anything I can say or do to break the silence, but there is nothing I can possibly say; he has to process this, and I get that. “Thank you, Piper.” A sound I don’t expect sneaks over the line as Dad takes a breath, yet it’s not the sort I expect; it’s almost a cleansing, relieved breath and that in itself gives me hope for my future as I peer down at my heap of clothes.

  “Soooo…” Pushing my teeth together, I decide a new direction is in order; let’s turn this into a positive. “I guess a family reunion is in order?” I grin, hoping this will lift Dad’s spirits and remind him that there is still a reason to celebrate. His sister left behind three great, wait, two awesome guys and one that is determined to drive my best friend half insane until he gets in her pants. Shaking my head, I get back on track. “I’m sure you all will have plenty of stories to tell each other.”

  Dad coughs and I cringe, flinching as if his pain is my own. “Yes, that would be nice. I’d love to get to know them all. Would you mind setting something up?”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll text Evan when we hang up and see if we can all get together after the New Year.”

  “Sooo…I keep hearing Evan’s name. That’s a name I haven’t heard you talk about in such a chipper fashion in years. Anything you wanna tell me?”

  I hear a hint of teasing in his tone and I automatically go into full on junior high girl mode. “Ohhh, well, we actually spent a little time together and I guess maybe…” I never knew how hard talking to Dad about these sorts of things could be. My stomach dips and turns, making me feel uncomfortable.

  He chuckles, “Ok, ok, well make sure to bring him to the house. I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on as well. I know you both used to be two peas in a pod for as long as I could remember. It’ll be nice to get back a little of what you lost.”

  My body jumps at him saying exactly what I have been thinking. “Ok…I will.”

  “Well I think I am going to get off here and maybe try to sort through all this. Let me know when and where and I’d love to see some pictures if at all possible. Ummm, I know I’m a little at a loss for words on it, but I do appreciate knowing. It’s never good to leave things unsettled in your heart.”

  I take a deep breath, pushing all of my anxiety that I felt earlier into the pit of my stomach so that maybe, the fears that hold me back in life can once and for all be forgotten, and my scars can heal.

  �
��I love you, honey.”

  “I love you too, Dad.” I hold off immediately on saying bye. “I am sorry, Dad. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Bending down on shaky legs, I place my phone in my suitcase beside my sweater and reach my hand out an inch closer, and closer and closer, yet as my fingertip barely brushes over the softness of the knitted garment, my legs become concrete. I turn to stone, unable to will myself any further to whatever truths or lies he has fed me after all these years. I fall to my knees onto the hard wood floor, a dull sting splintering over my knee and reminding of that night; pulling up the memories of my legs digging into the gravel as I fled.

  My lungs shut down as I squeeze my eyes shut and hear a pained whimper. I snap my head around and look towards the bed, why I have no idea; I know it was me, but as the still blackness of terror and nostalgia threatens to sweep over me like the plague, I’m unable to pinpoint whether the sound is a memory of that night as I prayed it would end, or if it is the fear I pushed down erupting out of me, because it is too much to hold back.

  I have to get this under control. I can’t let that one-night rule my entire life. It has dictated every fabric of my being from that night on; I’ve never been able to carry on an intimate relationship with anyone since Evan, I keep everyone at arm’s length in terms of trust and closeness, and the slightest things can knock me into a whirlwind of darkness.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I listen to the sounds in the room; nothing, only muffled chatter from the next room mixed with a chilly breeze outside and rapping branches against the back window. I push down the feeling that Trent is right there again, invading the present and holding me back from living life. Stiffening my shoulders and drawing them in towards my neck, I push down the impulse to feel his hot breaths in my ear once again. Breathe, Breathe.

  My mind races, thumbing through carefully selected memories that inflicted further pain and doubt over my heart.

  “Piper, do you have any idea why Trent would have wanted to leave so suddenly?”

  The question sends ice through my veins. With less than a week since the night he took everything from me, I can barely look Mom and Dad in the eyes out of fear that they will see the truth. However, hearing the skepticism and blame in my mother’s tone, tears me apart. She already voiced to Dad that she was extremely against him wanting to go back to California, but she also told us how adamant he was on leaving; I’m thankful for that. No way could I face him day in and day out, or even begin to sleep in the same house as him.

  “Well I just found it odd that the last thing he told me is to tell you he was sorry.”

  There it is. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the kitchen counter as she continues to scrub a plate for the sixtieth time since we’ve stood here. I wish Dad was back from fishing.

  “So you have no clue why he would say that?”

  She blames me; or does she know.

  Raising my shoulders till they scrunch against the sides of my neck, I look forward and try to regain my composure by gulping in a lungful of air. My stomach rolls and my head spins as I stare forward. From the corner of my eyes I can tell she hasn’t even looked my way, she just keeps scrubbing, brushing her anger off on that plate.

  “Hmmmm, well I sure would like to know. He’s had a rough way to go and my sister is in no condition to take care of him. I just found it odd that he would beg me to go back, don’t you?”

  Another gallon of oxygen reaches my lungs and I pray that I can stay upright as she digs, sounding as if she knows more than she’s letting on.

  My mind tumbles and scrambles through more memories, feeling each of them like jagged shards of glass piercing my heart.

  Weeks go by and the sounds of laughter from anyone around, at a store, my family, other kids playing outside in the neighborhood, it’s all amplified as if it’s directed at me; like everyone is pointing at me. The sound hits my eardrums in a series of echoes and murmurs. “Why didn’t she tell him to stop?” “Why didn’t she scream for her dad or call for help?” I can’t stop the accusing sounds anywhere I go.

  My heart stumbles as I remember how helpless those first few weeks were, leading up to the first time my body rebelled and I blacked out.

  I’m alone, surrounded in darkness and it’s a dream; no, a nightmare. He’s behind me, against me and I can’t stop it. It’s happening again. I breathe and breathe and breathe until all the air in the room is emptied and there is no more to take in. Muffled words tug at me and I swear I can hear Dad.

  “Call 911…she isn’t waking up,” he cries out, sounding scared and panicked. “Piper, Piper, wake up.”

  I gasp, not sure whether he is dunking me in water to pull me out of my dream or what. My fist finds something solid and it’s then that I realize, I’m still in bed. My face isn’t under a faucet or being dunked beneath the surface of a cool bath, but it is soaked in tears and my sobs drown out everything else as I pull myself into Dad’s arms, clinging to him.

  “Baby, you scared me. Call the doctor,” he instructs Mom.

  I don’t even look around for her. All I can think is to stop them. A doctor will dig and dig to find the answers of why I’ve become so reclusive, turning away from all school activities, discarding most of my friends and preferring to seal myself in my bedroom alone.

  “No Dad, it was just a nightmare. It scared me. I thought I was…” I pause, thinking, searching, scrambling for an excuse. “I was drowning and couldn’t breathe,” I burst out. That’s exactly how I felt, trapped, unable to reach for anything to help me; being guzzled alive as my mind and body felt everything yet I couldn’t find the power to say a word.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, the memories fast-forwarding through time.

  I stand motionless against the shower house door, registering everything Evan’s heartless asshole of a brother says about me. My heart crumbles into my stomach and all I want to do is run, escape and never have to look anyone in the eyes again. I squeeze my lids together, wondering if I could possibly will away this moment or my entire being. Then I see him; the one person I trusted with my life, my honor, my heart and my secret. How could he hurt me like this?

  My eyes bolt open as I look ahead at the closet, and instantly rip the letter out of my pocket. I have to put an end all of this. I need closure; I need a way to move forward. A part of me wants to rush over to Evan’s cabin and demand to know what happened that day. It’s something I should have asked him last night, or possibly the other night on the dock or countless other times when I wanted to claw his eyes out from the resentment and anger I had carried with me. However, gripping the paper in my hands, I end on one thought; one thing that helps me to take a breath. It doesn’t matter what happened that day, or the day after or even today. What matters is that night; what matters is me finding a way to let it go; to forgive myself and to stop pointing my finger at what I didn’t do or say. I have to find closure, and this may very well be the only way to do it. Pressing the now wrinkled up sheet of notebook paper against my lap, I run my palm over it to smooth it out. The words are blurred as I look down and search for the courage to read. I need to be able to forgive and forget; I’ve got to learn to let go.

  AFTER CHRISTMAS, THE DAYS FLIP by faster than I can count. She and I both agreed that the past is best left in the past, however, I still feel the urge biting at me from time to time to explain how I blabbed to Mitch, but she quickly pulls away from the subject once we head in that direction. I just really hate that she may think that I deliberately told him something so personal. So far so good and we have been carrying on like two fourteen-years-olds that just experienced our first kiss on the shore of the lake. We’ve made sure to keep it all PG, although our kisses are getting down right R-rated the last few days and my anatomy is on full awareness that we are nearing the month mark in our new relationship status. Don’t women celebrate all that shit? I’m all for a celebration as long as it ends with a clothing optional party.

  “Wait, so Mom was in a band?” Judd laugh
s as he, Alyssa, me, Piper, Abby, Piper’s dad Pete and Jake all sit scattered about in the living room of her house. Tristan seemed to have a bit of a bitterness towards any family reunions in his near future, so none of us could convince him to come. “That’s hilarious. She never told us that. I mean, we knew Dad played football, but for some reason I always assumed…”

  “What? A cheerleader?” Pete chuckles, flipping through an old album, one of which Piper drug back from the cabin along with a whole slew of other books and keepsakes.

  It didn’t take everyone long to piece together the ties between Piper and Judd’s families, and it’s never made me prouder to know that my best friend and girlfriend are cousins. I think they both are due for some family connections. Let’s face it, Piper’s experience with cousins has resided in the adopted bastard that touched her against her will when she was a kid, and Judd needs any family ties that he can find. His family has been broken since his mom died, and with Tristan on constant excuse mode of why he cannot come talk to Pete or get together with any of us, this development has offered up a great source of distraction for Jake and Judd.

  “Yeah…I really envisioned the high school quarterback and head cheerleader kind of movie-like status for them. I don’t know,” Judd laughs, looking over at Alyssa.

  I scoot back into the cushion of the recliner as Piper pivots slightly, brushing her arm back behind my neck as she lazily drapes her body on the arm of the chair against me.

  We’ve spent many evenings lounging in her bedroom after classes or work, however, we keep a nice boundary of hands above the waist for now. We spent a couple of Saturday afternoons at my apartment, but that quickly got out of hand with us diagonal across the couch as I dry humped her like a dog trying to rub the fur off its mate’s ass. It was painfully awesome, to say the least, until Piper started to black out and we had to put the brakes on. It’s not like I’m not used to it and I’m more than happy with the routine we have, learning to breathe through the flashbacks again, but somedays I do want to shout from the rooftops out of frustration. From that point on, we resigned to have alone time at her house. Her dad seemed to trust me, however anytime we got too quiet, it always seemed like that was the exact moment that he remembered some appetizer that he had in the freezer that we just might want to try. I’ve started to associate pizza rolls and cheddar poppers with me getting an erection; nothing like shooting a man down with food…that’s never a good thing. That’s like using two heavenly possessions against a person; sex and food.