by Claire Adams
Maybe you could just...rough him up a little. That was how my mother had put it when she came to me that night. Your father doesn’t know that I’m talking to you about this, she’d said. He wouldn’t be okay with this sort of thing at all, you know that. But what else can we do, Cole? What other choice do we have?
No other choice, really. I knew that my parents had tried to pay Sam off. Unbeknownst to my sister, they’d given him $4,000 in cash—probably more cash than anyone in his family had ever seen at one time—if he would just disappear from my sister’s life. Had they told me they were going to do such a thing, I would have told them not to, because all Sam was going to do would be to buy drugs with it. Marissa had only just started using at that point; it was still early enough that she could’ve gotten clean without being sent off to rehab. But with Sam’s newfound wealth, the two of them were able to take off, hole up in a cabin somewhere for a few months, and have all the drugs they wanted. When Marissa finally reappeared again, she was hooked, and it was because they’d been able to afford all those drugs with the money my parents had given them.
And so my mother, my prim and proper mother who objected to the use of pesticides on the front lawn because it would kill the earthworms, had come to me that one night, at her wit’s end, not knowing what else to do.
And I had agreed, because I thought a good ass-kicking would make Sam realize that dating my sister came with too much shit for him to deal with.
I was wrong, though.
My parents hired the state’s top criminal defense attorney, and the charges against me were dropped, Marissa was sent away to detox, and we thought that we’d be able to begin the healing process.
Again, though—we were wrong.
“My brother said he saw your parents at his job a few weeks ago,” Shannon said. “They ignored him. Big surprise.”
“They might not have seen him,” I lied.
“Not that there would be anything to say other than an apology. Are you even sorry for what you did in the least? Do you care? Do you ever think about that?”
“Of course I think about it,” I said. That was not a lie, though I’d thought about it less and less as time went by. It was just the nature of things. I could say the same about Marissa, too—I’d thought about her every single day for months after she died, but then I’d realize, here and there, that a day had gone by, then another, where I hadn’t thought about her. I’d never forget her, of course, but things that were once front and center have a way of shifting, drifting back to the shadows, once enough time has elapsed. “I do think about it,” I repeated. “No one wanted any of this to happen; I can promise you that. This was not how anyone pictured things working out.”
“But you just get to go on with your life like nothing ever happened,” she said. “While my brother is struggling with his day-to-day reality. Simple things, like remembering to brush his teeth or how to scramble an egg. It’s been a blessing that he’s managed to hold onto this job for as long as he has, but who knows if that’s going to last? Nothing for you has changed, though.”
Oh, if she only knew. But what would she do with that information, if I told her, if I was honest with her, about just how much my life had changed?
“How long are you going to be with Mr. Geary?” she asked.
“Half an hour to 45 minutes,” I said.
She nodded tightly. “Then I think I’ll just plan on coming back then. I don’t think I can be in your vicinity.”
“I understand,” I said.
I felt far more shaken up after my encounter with Shannon than I cared to admit. I tried to push it out of my mind after she left, and I went inside to listen to Mr. Geary’s list of complaints, but I was distracted, unsettled. After I left Mr. Geary’s, I had a 20-minute drive to the next patient’s house, and I was glad for the time in the car, nothing but the pavement in front of me, the tall trees rushing by. There weren’t many things that I wished I could have done differently in my life, but that whole thing with Sam was certainly one of them. After the charges were dropped, my mother and I never talked about what had happened either, and as far as I knew, my father didn’t know that she had been involved at all. It was better that way; it was better to let him think this was just something that an overprotective brother had done on his own—and maybe I would have, even if my mother had never brought it up—but I still sometimes wondered how things might’ve worked out if my mother had never come to me that night and suggested I do that.
Chapter Twenty-One
Allie
I could tell that something was bothering Cole, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, even when Declan ran off to play with a couple of boys he knew in the sand box. We’d ridden bikes down the bike trail and made a stop at this playground so Declan could get out of the trailer and stretch his legs. Cole and I sat on one of the benches, drinking water and eating an apple. I took my shoes off, pushed my toes through the wood chips, and stretched my calves.
We’d gotten an early start that morning, leaving right after we’d had breakfast, so at first, I just assumed that Cole was still waking up and he’d be in a better mood once we had been riding around for a little while, but that didn’t really seem to be the case at all. He had me ride in front, and though he never got too close behind me or anything, it felt as though I could sense this simmering eagerness in him to just pass me and pedal as fast as he could, even though he was pulling the trailer with Declan in it.
Since we weren’t riding side by side, it was harder to have a conversation, though it wouldn’t have been impossible. He was mostly giving me one-word answers, though, so I eventually stopped saying anything and just rode my bike, enjoying the scenery. The bike trail wound its way through the woods, and the smell of pine was strong in the air. It wasn’t too humid out, which was nice, and the people that we passed, going in the opposite direction, all smiled and said hello.
That was nice, but I still wasn’t sure what was going on with Cole.
As we sat there next to each other, a running commentary had started up in my head with a litany of possibilities over why he was acting like this. I’d done something to upset him. I was being annoying without realizing it. He just realized he didn’t actually like me that much. I tried to ignore this little voice, but it was proving almost impossible. I also hated the fact that almost all of the possibilities I was coming up with were about me—that I was unaware I was doing something irritating, that I’d done something to make him mad—as though I didn’t have the self-esteem to just accept that maybe he was having a bad day.
“Is everything all right with you?” I finally asked.
He’d been looking off in the distance, not in the direction of the sand box, where Declan was still playing, but toward the field that had a track going around it.
“Yeah,” he said after a few seconds, finally pulling his gaze away to look at me. “Things are fine. Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, you’ve just seem a little...off, I guess?” Suddenly, though, I was doubting my previous thought about there being anything wrong. The whole thing was making me feel incredibly flustered, like I couldn’t even trust my own feelings or perceptions of things. Was this what it was like when you liked someone? I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle this.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, and he gave me a smile, which seemed genuine, and reached over and took my hand. “I’m not trying to come across like that. I’ve just... I’ve got a couple things on my mind, is all. But you’re right—I shouldn’t let that affect my day, especially since I’m spending it with you guys.”
I knew he was saying it to make me feel better, and a part of me did, but another part of me also felt like a nagging, insecure girlfriend.
“If it was anything I did, I’d want you to feel like you could tell me,” I said. The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them—what I really wanted to do was just move on from this conversation, but I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “You
can trust me, you know. I am not someone who can’t take constructive criticism, and I understand that people might want their alone time. I mean, I’ve never even had a boyfriend before, so I definitely get how nice it can be to have your own space and not have to—”
“Allie.” He had a bigger smile on his face now, which turned into laughter. “Sweetie. Can I call you sweetie? Stop. This really has nothing to do with you. And while I appreciate you understanding the importance of autonomy, trust me when I tell you I’d much rather spend my time with you than not.” He leaned toward me. “In fact,” he said in a low voice, “I’m hoping that later tonight we can spend some time together in my bed.”
I felt a warm tingle of happiness spreading across my chest, unspooling in me as he spoke.
“I would like that,” I said. “And there’s no one that I would rather spend my time with right now, either. But if that ever changes—I want you to feel like you can tell me that, and I won’t lose my shit or anything.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he said. “But I can assure you that as of right now—and certainly the foreseeable future—there’s really no one else I would rather be around with, either. I’ll try to snap out of it, okay? I don’t want to ruin anyone’s day.”
“Oh, you’re not!” I said, immediately feeling bad that I had let my own foolish insecurities get in the way. “You know, if there’s something bothering you, you can let it. That didn’t sound right, but... what I mean is, I totally understand if there’s something that’s bothering you and you don’t want to talk about it. I’m not saying that you need to pretend that everything is just fine if you feel like it’s not.”
“I know what you meant. I don’t want to be acting like things aren’t fine though, especially since what’s on my mind doesn’t have anything to do with you, so it shouldn’t affect us.”
I nodded, part of me hoping he’d elaborate and tell me what was going on. He didn’t, though, and I wasn’t going to push it. If he wanted to tell me, he could.
And Cole’s mood did seem to improve as the day went on. It was just a lot of fun to be out and riding around, getting to see new places. The bike path took us through several little towns, each with a bustling Main Street. We sat on the benches outside a general store in one of these towns, eating penny candy from paper lunch sacks. We took a turn off to Soft Shell Pond and went swimming; when we were done, we rode into Gardner and had lunch at a diner.
My leg muscles were pleasantly sore, like they’d gotten a good workout in. And we still had a decent ride ahead of to get back, but I was perfectly happy to do so. Getting to spend the whole day out like this, with Cole and Declan, was more fun than anything else I could’ve been doing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cole
It had been almost a week since I’d run into Shannon at Mr. Geary’s, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had. There was no way that I was going to mention it to my parents, though, so the only other person I could talk to who would understand the impact of the situation was Ben.
“What was she doing there?” he asked.
“She’s a home health aide. It just caught me completely off guard seeing her like that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you weren’t expecting that shit.”
“It went about as well as you’d expect.”
“Did you tell your parents?”
“No. My mother wouldn’t be able to handle it. She’s got so much guilt as it is; I don’t need to add to it.”
“Well, hopefully you won’t see her again. Shannon, that is. Not your mother.”
“It’s just...bothering me. I mean, I feel like it’s bothering me now as much as it was when I ran into her that day.”
“You didn’t say anything to her about...?”
I shook my head vehemently. “No. There’s no point. It would only complicate things by a thousand. She obviously still hates me and wishes her brother had never met my sister in the first place. Not that I blame her for hating me. I just wasn’t expecting to see her, I guess, and then knowing that my parents saw Sam at the grocery store... I mean, I still think about that shit.”
“Of course,” Ben said, nodding. “How could you not? Have you ever considered going to talk to someone?”
“Talk to someone? I’m talking to you right now. You’re essentially the only person that I can really talk to about this.”
“And I’m glad to be a sounding board, but I meant someone who might have experience dealing with this sort of thing.”
“Like a lawyer?”
He gave me a funny look. “A lawyer? No. Like...a therapist or something. A counselor. Someone who’s trained in dealing with matters like this. Someone that you could talk to that might be able to offer you some advice.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure I want to go that route. I mean, how much advice are they really going to be able to offer?”
Ben shrugged. “I have no idea. But they might be able to help. I’m not saying that you can’t talk to me, but I’ll be honest—I feel a little unqualified. There’s not much I can offer in the way of helpful advice.”
“I’m not looking for answers,” I said. “Or I’m not expecting them from you or anything. Sometimes it just helps to talk.”
“Yeah, I know. And if this is helping, then that’s great. But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to consider talking to someone else, too.”
“Hmm,” I said. “That’s not something I ever considered before, but I’ll think about it.” I was just saying that; there was no way I was going to go to a shrink.
“You’re a doctor; you help people,” Ben continued. “And that’s what a therapist does, too, right? They’re just sort of...a different kind of doctor.”
“Well, if they’re a psychiatrist. I’m not going to see a psychiatrist, though.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. “But maybe you shouldn’t knock it till you try it.”
The best way to forget about my interaction with Shannon was to keep myself busy with Declan, with work, with hanging out with Allie. All things that I was happy to do. Declan and I were sitting down to dinner. It had been a whirlwind of a day; I’d had a full day of patients and then ended up having to stay later to wait for my last appointment to show up.
I had looked out the window toward Allie’s house when I had made my way over to the kitchen table with Declan’s plate, and I saw that her car wasn’t there in the driveway. I wondered where she was, what she was up to right then, and I found myself wishing that she was sitting there at the table with us.
“Here you go, bud,” I said, sliding the plate with half a chicken salad sandwich and some cold grilled zucchini that we had picked up at the market on the way home. She’d been there at the Learning Center when I’d picked Declan up, but she was talking with another parent, so I didn’t have a chance to say much, though we did share a quick glance across the room. I didn’t think that anyone noticed, and even if they had, it wouldn’t have looked like anything more than two people meeting each other’s eyes for the briefest of moments, before continuing on with what it was they’d been doing, but I was definitely aware of the sexual tension, and I was eager to have some alone time with Allie again; I just wasn’t sure when that would be.
Declan took a sip of his lemonade. “Do you think Miss Allie could sleep over here some time?” he asked, putting his cup down.
“Maybe,” I said. “Would you like that?”
“Yes! We could set up sleeping bags in the living room and stay up all night and watch movies.”
“That sounds like quite the evening.”
“We could have popcorn.”
“We might be able to arrange something like that.”
Declan grinned. “Good,” he said. He leaned toward me. “I saw you guys kissing,” he whispered.
“You did?”
“Yes. Before Allie went back to her house that day we went riding on the bike trail. That means you guys like each other, doesn’t it? Cause peopl
e who don’t like each other wouldn’t kiss like that, would they?”
“You usually only kiss people you like,” I agreed. “I didn’t realize you’d seen us.”
“I was spying.”
“Oh you were, were you?”
The grin widened; he was clearly very proud of himself. “This girl at school tried to kiss me on the playground once, but I wouldn’t let her.”
“You’re a little young for that.”
“I didn’t really like her that much.” Declan tilted his head to the side. “Does Miss Allie want to be my mom?”
“Whoa,” I said. “Where’s this coming from?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Moms and dads kiss, though, right? They do on TV. And Miss Allie is so nice, I wouldn’t mind if she was my mom since I don’t have a mom.”
“You do have a mom,” I said. “Everyone has a mom; that’s how we’re born.”
“I know, but I don’t have a mom who’s here. I don’t have a mom that I know.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything. Four, in my opinion, was still too young to really be able to comprehend the facts of this particular situation. It wasn’t a conversation that I was particularly looking forward to. Declan was as smart as a whip, but I still wasn’t ready to really get into the topic of his mother. It was a talk that we’d have to have someday, but I was hoping that day was way off in the very distant future.
“So,” he continued, “since I don’t have a mom that I know, and since I like Miss Allie so much, and it seems like she does want to be my mom, I was thinking that I might ask her. Do you think she’ll say yes?”
I tried not to smile. “I’m not sure if that’s how it works,” I said. “I don’t know if people go around asking other people to be their parents.”
“But I could try, couldn’t I? That’s what you and Grandma are always saying, that I should at least try.”
“It is good to try,” I said. “Even when other people are telling you that you can’t do it. Especially then. Unless it’s dangerous, of course,” I added quickly.
