Hold On Tight (Take My Hand)
Page 23
Why do birds fly south for the winter?
Because it’s too far to walk.
Told you!
When everything was wrapped up, Jeff - as usual - high-fived us both. I accompanied Dexter to the visitor’s café and we talked about trivial garbage for half an hour before I had to leave. If there wasn’t a giant sign saying ‘The Springs Rehabilitation Centre’ on the far wall, then I could’ve been fooled into thinking we were just two ‘normal’ people, having a ‘normal’ coffee together and talking about ‘normal’ things. It warmed my heart a little… soon enough we would be ‘normal’ again.
We have a whole future to look forward to and I absolutely CANNOT wait.
Chapter Thirty
~Dexter~
“Stop tapping. It’s going to be fine, honey. You’ll see.” I looked down to my feet and sure enough they were tapping incessantly against the floor tiles in the area of Aunt Sarah’s apartment the vendors had a nerve to call a kitchen.
“Why don’t you call me sweet cheeks anymore?” I asked inquisitively – the thought popping out of the blue into my mind. It was all she ever called me as a kid and I can’t even remember when she stopped. All I know is it was a long time ago.
Aunt Sarah stuttered on a breath and looked at me with sorrowful eyes. In that moment I just knew it had something to do with him… my father.
“You know, what... it doesn’t matter.”
“Just tell me,” I said, more curious than ever.
“I’ve never told you this before...” uh oh. “But… your dad came back while your mom was still in the hospital after… the accident.”
“You mean after I shot her,” I corrected, causing a small gasp to escape her nervous lips. If Jeff has taught me anything it’s that we’ve skirted around what happened that day for too damn long. I shot her. I didn’t mean to, but I did. It’s time we all accepted that and… all together now… move on.
“That’s how he greeted me when I answered the door. Ever since… it just didn’t feel right saying it to you.”
“But I’ve continued to use it for you. I’m sorry… I had no idea. I won’t-”
“I don’t ever want you to stop calling me that, honey. It’s our thing. It always has been. Our memory – just mine and yours. Don’t let him take it from us completely.” I nodded slowly, offering a weak smile.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know. He left with some of his things. Some letters, files… stuff I think he didn’t want anyone to find. I told him the police were looking for him – tried to scare him away. But… he already knew. He recited details of our statements that he couldn’t possibly have known if he didn’t have some kind of inside connection. So when he swore we’d never hear from him again if I let him in to get his things, I stepped aside.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“Why? Nothing really happened. It was just an extra worry you didn’t need on your already overloaded shoulders.” We stood in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the contents of our conversation. Just then, the knock I’d been dreading all afternoon came. “I’m so proud of you,” Aunt Sarah whispered into my ear when she pulled me in for a hug. I smiled into her shoulder before releasing her and sucking in a deep, preparing breath.
“Let’s do this shit.”
Pausing in front of the door, my heart hammered painfully against the walls of my chest. It subsided instantaneously however when Emily emerged from the short hallway, dragging her red hair up into a ponytail.
“I love you,” she mouthed. And with that I found the courage to open the door and plaster a smile on my face.
“Holy shit.” Yep, like a complete asshat I said it out loud in front of a twelve year old girl. I just couldn’t help it. I’m telling you this girl is me with longer hair and for a split second it totally weirded me out. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “You… you just look so familiar.”
“Can we come in?” Patricia asked, looking up at me over the tired, purple bags dragging down her eyes.
“Sure, sure. Sorry.” Jesus, I was a stuttering mess. “Come in.” I stood aside and gestured my hand towards the small couch. Emily rubbed my shoulder and smiled. Once again it was all I needed to get my shit together.
Conversation flowed awkwardly for a good thirty minutes or so. Patricia stayed mostly quiet, sipping the coffee Aunt Sarah made for her to fill the gaps. Every so often she would prompt Marianne to speak by talking about school or other inconsequential shit. Marianne was a cute little thing. She had the same blue eyes as me and the same color hair, which was shaped into a bob just above her small shoulders. I could tell the pre-teen rebelliousness had hit a little early going off the clothes she was wearing. The ripped black jeans, rock t-shirt and black and white bangles covering almost her entire right forearm clearly screamed ‘look at me, I’m different’.
It was kind of adorable.
“Mom? You think Dexter and I could take a walk on our own?” she asked. Patricia’s mouth fell open and you could see the question bouncing around inside her brain as she tried to think of a way to let her down gently.
“If it’s okay with Dexter,” was her reply. Shit. I didn’t realize until the words left her mouth that I was hoping she would say no. But then Marianne looked at me for approval. Her big blue eyes looked so sad, so lost, as they bore into mine.
“Sure,” I said with what I hoped looked like a genuine smile. “Where you wanna go?”
“Don’t care,” she answered, shrugging in that I’m-too-cool-to-give-a-shit teenager way.
Standing up, I looked to my left and searched for the reassuring smile I needed from Emily. It was there waiting for me, lighting up her beautiful face and calming my racing heart.
“Come on, kid. Let’s go.”
**********
Unable to think of anywhere else that was public yet quiet enough to talk freely, I took Marianne to the park near my old house. This place had seen me at my best, my worst and through all the stages in between. I felt at home here. The familiar scenery calmed my nerves and relaxed me enough to be the strong big brother I suspected Marianne wanted from me.
“So, Marianne…”
“My friends call me Maz. Marianne is an old lady name.”
“So I’m your friend?”
“No. You’re my brother,” she stated, staring at me like I was an imbecile. “But I want my brother to call me Maz too.” I swear a little piece of my heart reserved itself just for her in that moment. How fucking weird is that?
“So, Maz…”
“You say ‘so’ a lot,” she noted.
“And you interrupt a lot,” I fired back.
“My mom said you tried to kill him.” Holy fuckballs with bells on. “Our dad,” she clarified, looking up at me for the response that was lodged in my throat. “I wish I’d been brave enough to try that.”
“No you don’t,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “I’ve been fucked in the head ever since that day. I’m only just getting my life back on track.”
“Is that why you take drugs?” Christ, Patricia hadn’t held back!
“Took, not take. I’ve been clean for almost two months now.”
“That’s not long.”
“No. But it’s a start.”
“Do you think you’d still have taken them if you hadn’t missed that day?” Fuck me sideways, this girl knew how to give it to you straight.
“Yes. No. Probably… Who knows, kid? Just know that it didn’t solve anything. All that shit did was fuck me up a thousand times worse.”
“I like you,” she said simply – a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You don’t treat me like a baby. You’re honest. And you swear a lot.” Shit, yeah… I probably should learn to rein that in around her.
“I like you too. For a girl and all,” I teased, bumping her shoulder with mine.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not really. The odd slap every now and then but nothing I couldn’t handle. You?”r />
“Same. I’ve spent most of my life at slumber parties. I’d get invited to one like every other day. She’d never admit it, but I think my mom secretly arranged it with their parents or something to get me out the house.” I just nodded. What else could I do? “He hurt her real bad. I don’t ever remember her without some kind of bruise of broken bone somewhere on her body. I hate him.”
“I hate him too.”
Across the street from the park there’s a little rundown café that sells cheap burgers and get-what-you’re-given topped pizza. After complaining she was hungry, I took Marianne there on our way back to Aunt Sarah’s. We ordered a large pizza that came with pepperoni and what looked like mushrooms but they were too shriveled to be sure so between us we picked them off, and ate as we walked.
I showed her the house I grew up in – the house he ripped away from under our noses just a few months ago. It was then I realized why she looked so familiar. It wasn’t the color of her hair or her eyes, or even the way the end of her nose had a tiny little dimple just like mine… no… it was the haunted shadow lingering behind those blue irises. The same shadow I’ve seen in my own for as long as I can remember.
“Do you think we’ll see each other again? When I move to Phoenix I mean.”
“Do you want to see me again?” I asked, anxiously hoping she would say yes.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then you will. And I’ll write you all the time. And text. And call. If you need me, kid… I’ll be there. I promise.”
“You mean it?” She sounded surprised.
“Hell yeah I mean it. And if it’s okay with your mom, you can come visit me in the UK. You ever been to England?”
“Seriously! I’ve never been but I’d love to. What’s it like there?”
“Cold… and wet.”
“Wow, bro… you’re really selling it to me.”
“Did you just call me bro?” Please let her have just called me bro.
“Um… yeah. You don’t mind do you? It just kinda felt right.”
“Nah, kid. I don’t mind at all.” Stealing the last slice of pizza from the box she was holding I added, “come on. Let’s get you back before your mom thinks I’ve lured you away to get you hooked on crack.”
We didn’t talk much the rest of the way. It wasn’t one of those uneasy silences you get with strangers though. It was because we already felt so comfortable with each other we didn’t need to force conversation so as not to look rude or boring. When we got back all three women jumped up from their seats to greet us and the look of sheer relief washing over Patricia’s face didn’t go unnoticed.
“Jeez, Mom. Stressed much?”
“Sorry we’ve been so long, Patricia. I took Maz for pizza.”
“Maz?” Patricia questioned. “She lets you call her Maz?”
“Um…” Did I say something wrong?
“Oh, please don’t embarrass me,” Marianne groaned, throwing her face into her hand.
“Sorry, sweetie. It’s just I thought only your cool friends could call you Maz. I’m sure as anything not allowed to.”
“Hey, I’m cool I’ll have you know,” I joked.
“Um, Dex… cool people don’t actually say they’re cool,” Marianne whispered, lowering her hand just low enough so I could see her eyes.
“Right. Got it,” I hushed back. “I mean… I’m so not cool. In fact I’m so un-cool I didn’t even know it was cool to call her Maz… or… something.” Fuck, I was confusing myself.
“Yeah, let it go, Dexter. You’ve just ran full speed into Loserville and I’m afraid even I can’t save you.” Marianne said, smiling and shaking her head.
No one asked what Marianne and I had talked about and neither of us offered the information. Though I planned to tell Emily later and I imagined Patricia planned to probe Marianne when they were alone too. Aunt Sarah made more coffee and we worked our way through another pot before Patricia stood up and announced it was time to leave.
Patricia nodded over to the corner of the room, silently asking for a private word. I nodded back and then stood up and followed her into the tiny kitchen area. After sweeping the room to check for curious eyes she placed a tender hand on my forearm. I had to try extremely hard not to recoil from the over familiar contact from a woman I still wasn’t sure I didn’t detest.
“Thank you,” she uttered, seeming sincere. “It means so much to her. And to me. I can tell by her face you’ve made quite an impression.” She sounded both relieved and surprised. I still haven’t made my mind up whether that offends me or not.
“She’s a great girl,” was a total understatement. “And she seems nothing like me. I don’t think you need to worry on that score.”
“Dexter, I was never worried about that. I’m not professing to know you, but I don’t think you’re the monster you think you are.” I eyed Patricia up suspiciously. She both looked and sounded pretty genuine, but knowing my history – why on earth would she think that? “Will you keep in touch with us? With Marianne?”
“Try and stop me. Like I said she’s a great kid. I already feel very… protective of her. I know this probably sounds strange, impossible even, but… I already love her.”
“That doesn’t sound strange. It sounds… wonderful.” All of a sudden Patricia’s smiling lips morphed into a tight, serious line. Crap, what’d I said? “Know this though, boy. That girl has been through so much in her short life. And yes, I take full responsibility for that-”
“Well you shouldn’t,” I felt compelled to interrupt. My father is accountable for fucking with that girl’s life – no one else.
“Regardless… you ever hurt her, you ever let her down and I swear to God you won’t get another opportunity. Do you hear what I’m saying?” Sounded fair enough to me.
“Loud and clear.”
It really was time to leave now. Patricia had some kind of meeting and I had to return to the center. Marianne propped herself against the doorjamb, tapping her foot impatiently while she waited for her mom to say her goodbyes to Aunt Sarah and Emily. Walking over to her, I held my arms out in front of me.
“So, um, is it cool to hug your big brother or not?”
“Not really,” Marianne answered. “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Chapter Thirty-One
~Emily~
“He was happy enough to take my signature to secure the lease,” Chris told me over the phone. “But of course he’ll need Sarah’s scribble when you make it back here.”
“That’s great!” Chris sent over the shortlist of flats and houses he’d viewed last week. After a lot of um-ing and ah-ing, Sarah settled on the two-bed semi-terrace in Altrincham. It was only a ten minute drive from Chris’ flat, and that is where Dexter and I will be staying until we find somewhere permanent. “She’ll be so chuffed when I tell her.”
Today was a huge day for us all. It was Sarah’s last shift at the grotty café and Dexter’s last day in rehab. When I went to visit him later I would be bringing him back with me. For good.
“Dexter… he’s good with cars right?”
“Um, yes,” I answered, narrowing my eyes in confusion. “Why?”
“I need an apprentice. I thought-”
“Oh my God!” I squealed. “Are you serious? You’d do that for him?”
“No, Emmie. I’d do it for you.” Good a reason as any I suppose. “But I also said I’d give him a shot – let him prove himself. So, this is me giving him that shot. You think he’ll be interested?”
“Are you kidding? Of course he will! Chris, he will be made up. He won’t let you down I know he won’t.” Could this day get any better? I highly doubted it.
“He better not. I’ve not made this decision lightly,” Chris said sternly. “But… if I’m honest I don’t think he will either. Maybe I’m growing soft in my old age but, well I see something in him that I like. Even so… I mean it, Emmie – one chance. And when I get to talk to him about it, he will be under no illusion that I will r
ip the fucker’s balls off if he dares mess with me or you.”
“I love you, bro. You’ve no idea how grateful I am. And I know Dex will be too. Thank you, Chris. Just… thank you.”
**********
“Are you nervous?” I asked Dexter as we sat waiting for Jeff in his office.
“Honest answer?” he replied. “Fucking petrified.” Knowing time is probably the only thing that would ease the intense fear I suspected we were both feeling, I stayed quiet and nodded slowly.
“Chris called this morning. I have some news.”
“Go on… who’s he knocked up?” Dexter ribbed.
“It’s about you actually.” I smiled when his intrigued eyebrow shot up. “He wants you to work for him. Be his apprentice. He’s already arranged your work permit and got you enrolled in college. You won’t start studying until next term, but until then-”
“Whoa whoa whoa… slow down, doll,” he butted in. “He’s giving me a job? Me? Why? Why would he do that?”
“Because he believes in you. We all do.” Dexter’s face twisted into an expression I couldn’t quite read. It looked like a combination of confusion and disbelief.
“She’s told you then,” Jeff announced, startling us both when he bustled into the room overloaded with a hefty stack of books and files.
“You knew?” Dexter asked, perplexed. “About the job?”
“Aye. She called me this morning,” Jeff replied, angling his head towards me as he tossed the mass of books into a messy heap on his desk.
“Wow. You guys do that a lot? Gossip behind my back?” Dexter smirked.
“Don’t flatter yourself, mate. You’re really not that interesting.” In that moment I realised how much I’m going to miss Jeff’s banter. I know he has only been doing what he’s paid to do, but nevertheless I will be eternally grateful to him for what he’s done for Dexter… for all of us. “So how’d you feel about it?”