Pieces of it All

by Tracy Krimmer

  When she stepped into the room, it stunned her to see her dad seated partially upright. He leaned with his back against the paper-covered pillow, his arms stuck with IVs and other unknown wires coming out of his hospital gown. She clasped her hand to her mouth at the tubes protruding out of his nose. "It's okay, Beth. Come on in." Her mom sat next to him, heavy eyes and a pale face.

  Beeping from machines blared in the silent room. Her dad lifted one side of his mouth in a small smile. "Hey, sweetheart. You didn't have to drive all the way back here."

  Once at his bedside, she took his hand in hers. "Are you kidding me? Of course I came."

  He reached his other hand over and patted the top of hers. "I'm glad you did. Tell me about your apartment."

  Never before had he looked so old. Every crease in his skin was defined, a crack in a smooth road. For the first time she recognized the rough spots around his mouth and chin weren't stubble. Years of work had worn him down. "Dad, you just had a heart attack. You don't want me to bore you."

  He nodded. "Yes. I do. I'm able to say I had a heart attack, and survived. Forgive me if I want to hear how things are with my daughter."

  The wires and machines surrounding him taunted her. What did each wire represent? Did every beep mean something different? Should a rapid dinging concern her as much as a slow one? She'd go crazy sitting in his position, which probably answered why he wanted to discuss her living arrangements.

  Keep everything to a minimum, she thought. Her dad would have another heart attack if she told him Harvey showed up, pleading with her to take him back. "It's good, Dad. The place is super adorable. Heather's parents furnished my room and everything."

  He squeezed her hand tighter. "Sue told me about Harvey. I knew I didn't like him for a reason." He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Please, Beth. You're such a caring person and want everyone to like you, but, please, stay away from this guy. He's not worth the effort."

  "Don't worry, Dad. It baffles me Aunt Sue is so forgiving about everything."

  "She lost her best friend. Harvey coming back into her life shocked her. Since she went through the same pain he did, she understands and wants to forgive." He widened his eyes. "Although I don't think she should have."

  "I promise, Dad. I'm not going to forgive him or take him back or whatever. I'm smart enough not to get involved with someone like Harvey." This was the I told you so moment. Weeks ago she pleaded and bargained with her parents to allow her to date Harvey. Now she stood in front of them eating her words.

  "We know, honey," her mom piped in. "He seemed like such a decent boy, and I'm sure he is, but we live in a crazy world. We're afraid you may get mixed-up in something no good. As good of a judge of character you are..." she trailed off, touching her cast. "We want you to be safe."

  "I realize that, Mom. Thank you." All she wanted to do was drop it. One more conversation about this and she'd go mad. "I'm glad everyone is okay. Mom, how are your migraines?"

  She smiled. "Much better, dear. Ever since I came clean about school, I feel so alive and like a big weight lifted off me. I'm still getting them, although not as severely."

  Beth couldn't be prouder of her mom, and happy she had this time to discover herself. Almost forty and just finding a whole new world to be a part of. Maybe she still had time.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  When Harvey pulled into the driveway, his father's truck was parked outside. He returned from the bar and was probably wasted. He shut off the car. He wasn't prepared to handle this. He just argued with Beth, the last thing he wanted was the same with his father. He laid his head on the steering wheel, exhausted. He was exhausted from his time with Beth and failure to win her back, exhausted from the unaccomplished drive to her apartment, exhausted from what probably lied ahead with his father. So many years were ahead of him. Should he be spending his youth trying to win Beth? Finally he had someone worth committing to in his life, and she wouldn't reciprocate.

  He decided to lay low for a while and let her cool off. He hoped she listened and called Sue. She could fill Beth in on all the details so he wouldn't have to. The truth may help smooth things over, and make her understand. He'd find another job, and screw a few girls if he had to, in order to get her out of his system. It'd be like before this woman entranced him.

  Time to face his father. Certain he'd be inside, he prepped himself for a blowout. His goal never changed - pick a fight with Harvey. He liked to call him names, shove him around, as if somehow being a bully defined his manhood. Maybe he thought forcing Harvey to defend himself made him a man as well, but Harvey only felt like a teenager again, afraid to talk to his father in fear of abusive rebuttal.

  Bullet greeted him with a few snorts and a tiny wagging tail. Harvey gave him a quick belly rub before gathering the courage to do what had to be done. The shower was running in the bathroom, but he didn't want to wait. He barged through the door and whipped open the curtain to his father's surprise.

  "Get the fuck out. Now." Harvey took control like he never had before. He stormed into the living room where he waited for him.

  In less than a minute, his father raced toward him, his body still wet, holding the towel over himself with one hand. "What the fuck was that, Harvey?" He screamed, like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

  Harvey grabbed the lamp off the table, ripping the cord from the wall, and aimed it at him as though it were a gun. "Don't come any closer to me, you selfish prick." He waved the light back and forth, keeping his father at bay. "Tell me what happened to my mom." Saliva formed into spit, Harvey seething at the mouth, his anger boiling to points it had never been before.

  If looks killed, Harvey would have been six feet under. "Your mother was a whore. She probably still is, screwing whoever can get her some blow."

  "Fuck you! I know that isn't true! Tell me the truth. I deserve the truth!"

  He took a step closer. "You don't deserve shit."

  The lamp slamming onto the table and smashing into pieces pushed his father back again. "Don't come near me!" His heart raced and he had to catch his breath. "You've been an asshole to me my entire life. No one deserves to be treated like you treated me. Especially a kid! You're a drunk and a loser! A LOSER! No wonder mom planned on leaving you."

  His father's hand wrapped around his throat so quickly he couldn't react. "Don't you EVER bring that up again, do you hear me?" He shoved Harvey down to the ground.

  Massaging his neck, Harvey said, "I'm well aware of what happened to her. I know the truth now. You should have just told me she was dead."

  He looked down at Harvey, a cocky grin on his face. "I don't need to tell you anything." He raised his finger in the air and pointed it down toward Harvey. "You don't come into my house expecting anything from me. I should kick you out right now, but I won't." He wagged his finger. "No, I won't. Your rent, though, well just fucking doubled." He turned and went back to the bathroom, leaving Harvey on the floor, the lamp shattered around him.

  Thankfully, Harvey's father left for the rest of the day. No doubt his bar buddies wanted to meet up somewhere. A typical Saturday went that way. And Sundays. And evenings after work. Harvey seeing him was a rarity, but when he did, an all out war ensued.

  Since his father wouldn't be home for hours, Harvey took a shower, grabbed a six-pack and headed to his room. He dug through the mountain of clothes on the floor until he found his remotes for his gaming system. A game of Grand Theft Auto would be enough to pound out his anger. He played for three hours, almost finishing off the six-pack before crashing into his pillows. He passed out in record time.

  All he wanted to do was dream about Beth. The way her hair swept past her shoulders, her smooth lips opening into an angelic smile. Her slender legs wrapping around his body as he lost himself in her. He needed that again. He had fucked up - big time - but he had to find a way to get her back. He hoped she called her aunt and got the whole story, and everything would make sense. She'd want to be together again.

&n
bsp; His subconscious hadn't gotten the memo to cast Beth in his dream, instead spewing out a nightmare he had many times over.

  His father chased him through the woods with his hunting gun. "Come on, son. You need to learn to hunt like a man!" he called out. "No more of this pussy ass reading you do. Pick up a damn gun and let's shoot." Except his dad wasn't hunting a deer or a turkey; his prey was Harvey. He aimed the rifle at Harvey the entire time, waiting for the moment he would trip over a branch or rock and go tumbling down so his father could shoot Harvey right between the eyes. Harvey would no longer be around to interrupt his nights of drinking and trashy women he brought home.

  "Come on, now, boy! I didn't know you had such a run in you! I always tagged you as a sissy. Let me teach you how the gun works."

  His father didn't really want to show him. The minute he stopped running, he'd be dead. He had to keep going.

  The woods seemed to go on forever. In the distance a country song played, oddly familiar to Harvey, although he couldn't quite place it. Must. Keep. Running. He breathlessly said out loud. Must. Keep. Running. Come on legs, don't fail me.

  Suddenly, he recognized the song. Islands in the Stream, the song he and Beth planned on singing at karaoke before she hurled all over the bathroom. As a light appeared through the trees, the music kept getting louder. When he reached the edge of the woods, where would he go? Only water existed after the trees ran out, leaving no choice but to dive in. Either way, death was imminent. Once he dove in the water, his father would catch up with him and pull the trigger.

  "Come on, Harvey! What the hell is wrong with you!" he yelled over and over as the music got louder.

  His ankle twisted and he went down. "No!" he cried out. "No!" He grabbed onto his foot and before he was able to get up again, his father stood above him with his gun, looking straight at him. "I knew you couldn't do it." The cold metal pressed deep against his skin, imprinting the muzzle into his forehead. He closed his eyes. Bang!

  Harvey jumped, tossing back and forth as the banging increased in speed and sound. He opened his eyes, back in his bedroom, soaking wet. He laid there, catching his breath, trying to figure out what happened. The sheets stuck to his body, and the ends of his hair dripped with sweat. Another bang, followed by the doorbell ringing three times. Who could be at the door? He hopped out of bed, realizing maybe Beth came to her senses, and switched his clingy shirt out for a plain tee. He stumbled through his messy room to the front door.

  "We need to talk," Maggie said as she stared back at him.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Beth walked in the front door of her house and closed it with a sigh. She had only been gone a couple days, but she missed the aroma of home. Fresh potpourri always welcomed her into the kitchen, and the freshly vacuumed carpet made it feel so clean. She looked forward to being on her own, but the whole thing happened quickly. She gave only a few hours notice before she whisked herself off to Morgantown to be an adult. She missed her twin bed, complete with its pink, green and black polka dotted comforter and bright fuchsia throw pillows. Her antique white dresser hadn't changed a bit, with a notebook open and a pen laying on top, a glass paperweight with a floating daisy inside her mom gave her years ago claiming its spot on the page.

  Hugging a pillow to her chest, she leaned over her desk, examining her tack board of photos. Collages filled the area, snapshots of her and Lucy and Heather mostly, along with a few of Lucy and Jack. She always printed the pictures from her phone she loved most and tagged them on the board. One of her and Ryan still hung in the corner. She pulled it off. He had his arm around her and she buried her face in his chest, although a view of the side revealed a beaming smile. The shot caught him in the midst of a laugh. Beth remembered the day well. She, Ryan, Jack, and Lucy went bowling. Beth was always a terrible bowler, but nothing compared to the way Jack bowled that day. The attendant at the shoe counter suggested bumpers because of Jack's inability to keep his ball out of the gutter. Lucy grabbed Beth's phone and snapped the picture of her and Ryan in the very intimate moment, until the ball flew out of Jack's hand and into the neighboring bowler's lane. Ryan burst out laughing when Lucy clicked the photo.

  The memory, forever etched into Beth's mind, happened two years prior. She would always remember the moment. The warmth of Ryan's body, the sweetness of his cologne, the crashing of pins echoing through the alley. She tacked the picture back into place. Did Harvey's photo spark memories for him? Did he remember his mom holding him, and kissing him? Did her voice visit him in his dreams? Was there a perfume or shampoo that resonated in Harvey, opening up every memory with his mom each time he smelled it? If he didn't have that already, he never would.

  She was it. Beth became his only happy memory. He came to her, to right his wrong, because she was all he had. Once he learned his mom died, no one remained but Beth, and she, too, left him. Twice. Had she not given him a chance? Maybe she was too unforgiving. She built up her expectations on how her first sexual encounter would be - she never imagined to be crawling out a window - but she should remember it was her first time. The same situation would have occurred at her house, and her dad came home, except Harvey would have no choice but to jump from a second story window. He stole the ring he gave her, but Sue found enough room in her heart to forgive once he returned the stolen items. Life was about second chances. Harvey deserved one, too.

  "Maggie? What are you doing here?" Harvey ran his fingers through his hair. The sun beat down into the house, almost blinding him. "What time is it?"

  "Around five. I have quite the bone to pick with you. What happened with Nelson?" She pushed through the door, knocking Harvey out of the way. Her blond hair, pulled into a ponytail, swung back and forth with force. Her long, straight hair usually rested over her shoulders. Even in her thirties, the hairstyle worked well on her. He shut the door and she already stood in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips. "You walked out on the job? The job I got you? The job to get you back on the right track?"

  "Maggie-"

  She put her hand up. "And what's this I hear about drinking? Nelson overheard a lady accusing you of being drunk. What the hell, Harvey?"

  So she knew everything. Nelson couldn't only tell her he walked out on the job. No, he had to fuck things up even more by ratting him out. He needed to sit down. Scratching his head, he sat on the couch. "I don't know, Maggie. I lost it. I got upset and walked out."

  "Didn't we teach you anything about responsibility? You don't walk out on a job. Ever! You disrespected Nelson, and not only did your actions reflect poorly on you, but now my cousin is pissed at me." She sat down next to him. "God, Harvey. I went out on a limb for you. I stepped in where I shouldn't."

  He watched Maggie sink into the couch, her face buried into her hands. He'd never witnessed her like a real person with feelings. She always helped and guided him. In all his months in rehab, she'd befriended him, going above and beyond what was expected of her. "I'm sorry, Maggie. I really am."

  A strand of hair freed itself from her ponytail and stuck to her now tear stained face as she cocked her head. "Are you drunk right now?" She whispered. "You reek of alcohol."

  This was what real disappointment looked like - staring someone in the eyes who truly cared about you and admitting you had failed; coming to terms that the last months of your life had been a waste of not only your time, but someone else's. "I...Maggie."

  She waved her hands at him. "Just don't, Harvey. Why didn't you call me? I could've talked you through it."

  He stood, put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorway leading to the kitchen. "I don't think so. Not this time." After he and Beth had their first argument, she successfully talked him down, but finding out about his mom was something else entirely. What would she say if she found out he fell off the wagon twice now? Even if she stood before him, her sharp blue eyes begging for him to put down the drink, he wouldn't have. He couldn't have.

  "Is that why you didn't answer your phone?
I tried calling you at least five times before I jumped in the car and drove down here."

  He shrugged. "I wasn't aware you called. I passed out in bed, drunk and feeling sorry for myself because that's what I do. It's who I am."

  "Harvey." This time she cocked her head up like a sad puppy. "You're not that person. You know that."

  "No. I don't. I spent my whole life wondering about my mom while I lived with a father who would rather drink and beat the shit out of me than be a parent. After all these years, I finally found someone I thought I truly loved, only to lose her and find out my mom is dead." Tears never came easy to Harvey, but a river was about to flow through. "DEAD! My father called her all kinds of names and made up stories. I assumed they weren't true, but never in a million years..." He gulped and wiped his nose. He looked up at the ceiling. "I never imagined she was dead. The possibility never even crossed my mind. Yet here I am."

  His crying turned to anger as he approached her. "So you tell me, Maggie, what the hell was I supposed to do? Go on my cheery fucking way and pretend like the last seventeen years of my life didn't happen?" Maggie flinched as Harvey shoved his hand in her face. "This scar and countless others make that impossible."

  She grabbed his hand with hers and held it tightly in her lap. "Those scars don't define you, Harvey. They define him. They make him the cowardly bastard unable to be a man to his son."

  He ripped his hand away. "The apple doesn't fall from the tree. Now I'm him. I'm the drunk. I should just accept it and make things a lot easier."

  "I can't believe you're saying this, Harvey," she yelled as she bounced off the couch. "Are you even listening to yourself? You did it. You walked into the rehab center wanting nothing more than a drink. You left a changed man. Don't throw everything all away."