“But you’ll be at the dance on Friday, right?”
“I wouldn’t miss that,” he promised. “I might be in Sugar Creek for a while on Tuesday, but if I don’t catch you while I’m in town, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. This week is bound to be chaotic.”
“Well, maybe you won’t see me, but you can always call, you know.”
“And I will,” he promised. “And you call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“That’s a promise I’m comfortable making,” I said, reminding myself that I was going to have to deal with the whole Mom situation sooner or later. Chances were very high that I wouldn’t be able to cope with facing her again without some moral support.
“Have a good week,” he said, and with a kiss to my cheek, a long hug, and another goodbye, Gabe and I parted ways and headed in our separate directions.
Chapter Thirteen
The night was quiet. I returned home from Desden and didn’t see Dad or Bailey. My sister’s door was shut and locked, and when I knocked, I never got an answer. I poked my head into Dad’s room to let him know I’d made it home safely, but he’d already turned in for the night.
Bailey drove us into school the next morning, looking tired and seriously worn out. Even though she was shut up in her room and probably asleep long before I was last night, she didn’t look nearly as well-rested. She didn’t have a lot to say on the drive in, and even though I tried to keep the conversation alive, she was very short and unwilling to talk. We parted ways as soon as we got in the school building, and she went straight for her friends, giving me little more than a wave at her departure.
“Whoa. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How’d you get stuck pulling ticket duty?” I asked, passing Fletcher some cash. It was already lunchtime, and he was hard at work, selling tickets for the RI dance finale. “I thought this was Bailey’s gig for the day.”
“It was supposed to be.” He sat at the other side of the table, organizing the embroidered tickets I’d had on special-order from the printer’s in town. There he was, the guy who didn’t want to take over the dance, taking over in every possible way … just like I promised he wouldn’t have to do. He sat there in the cafeteria, prominently displayed at the front of the room with a decorative tablecloth, indicating his purpose. He was there all by his lonesome, doing the job that was meant for my sister.
“Where is she?”
“She never showed up,” he said, shrugging. “Carla offered to step in and take tickets, but—”
“You don’t have to explain that one,” I said, looking around the lunchroom. I wouldn’t let Carla anywhere near the dance finale project—not after what she’d pulled in recent weeks. Bailey and Fletcher were the ones I trusted most, but even as I swept my eyes across the lunchroom, my sister was nowhere in sight. I was hoping I’d find her among her friends, hoping that maybe she was sitting at her usual table, and that maybe she’d only forgotten about helping Fletcher. “You know I’d offer to help, but—”
“No, I get it,” he said, starting to count the money. “Even in an unofficial capacity, people might talk. It’s no big deal. I just wish Bailey would answer my texts. I’ve sent three messages in the last half hour.”
“And nothing?”
He shook his head and counted out the cash I’d given him. “How many tickets are you buying?”
“Oh, seven,” I said. “Sorry, should’ve told you that.”
“Seven?”
“One for me,” I smiled. “Then there’s Dad, Bailey, and Gabe. And I thought I’d treat Haley and Amanda Goodwin to a night out, too. I’ll see them tomorrow, so I’ll give them the tickets then.”
“You know they can pay at the door?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to do something nice for them, and I know Amanda would love something like this. I figured I might as well go ahead and buy all the tickets now so no one had to fuss with it on Friday.”
I would’ve even bought one for Jones if he wasn’t already getting in free with the band.
“Wait, that’s only six,” he said, doing a mental recount of the list. “Who’s number seven?”
“I’m inviting a friend.”
“A friend?” he asked, lifting his brow. “Anyone I know?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “And it’s a surprise. Just in case she doesn’t go for the whole idea, I think I’ll keep it a secret for now. You know, so no one gets their hopes up.”
“Heard through the gossip mill that your mom came to town,” he said, passing me the seven tickets. “I didn’t realize she was in the picture.”
“She won’t be for much longer, I hope.”
“So it’s not for her, then?” he asked. “The seventh ticket?”
“You’re being awfully nosy today,” I said, smiling at him. “Let’s move to safer territory, shall we? How are ticket sales?”
“Strangely surprising.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I keep dropping off loads of cash with Mr. Davies. I had ticket duty on Friday, again today before school, and then for a half-hour during study hall. After all the tickets I’ve sold, I didn’t feel comfortable carrying around that much cash in the box.” He studied me again, looking to the tickets in my hand. “Is it for Georgia?”
“Georgia said she already bought her ticket from you this morning.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because you’re being mysterious, and that’s not a label I’d normally put on you. I’m intrigued.”
“Well, you can keep being intrigued, because I already told you it’s no one you know,” I said. “So why does it matter?”
“I feel like if it didn’t matter you would tell me.”
“That’s true,” I said, smiling. “You’re right. It matters—a lot. And I don’t want to get my hopes up or jinx it.”
“Okay, I’ll let it go,” he said, raising his hands in defeat, but his smile was clue enough that Fletcher enjoyed our little back and forth just then.
“Listen, I’ll track Bailey down and find out what her deal is. I’ll make sure she calls—”
“Yeah, but she’s never called,” he said, almost sounding guilty for ratting on her. “Not once.”
“Not even Saturday?” I asked, surprised that she hadn’t reached out to him after I’d made a point to stop and ask her to.
“Nope.”
“Fletcher, I’m sorry.”
It was annoying, and I was beginning to pine for the days of mean, malicious, lamp-throwing Bailey. At least then I could count on what I was going to get. But now I was confused. I couldn’t predict her behavior from one day to the next, and making a promise to Fletcher and then flaking on it was not going to fly.
I looked behind me and a line was starting to form.
“I’ll let you get to your sales,” I said. “I’ll try to round up my sister. Hopefully you’ll hear from her soon.”
###
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I asked, and Georgia waved a hand. “I know I’m asking a lot.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked. “Mandy, relax. It’s only a half-hour drive, and I haven’t seen Gran in a couple of weeks. I’m not in any hurry to get home, so why not?”
“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?” I said, following her out of school that afternoon and through the parking lot.
I couldn’t rely on my own car to take that drive out to Desden because where ever Bailey had disappeared to at lunch, she’d taken the car with her. I don’t know how she thought I wouldn’t notice her absence. We shared every class together, and up until lunch, she’d been in every one. And then as soon as she flaked out on Fletcher, I didn’t see her again for the rest of the day. Sure enough, school let out and the car was nowhere to be seen … and she hadn’t responded to a single one of my hundred calls or texts.
“So you’re going to do it?” Georgia asked. “You’re going to talk to his mom?”
“I am,” I said. “But I’m going to need your help getting in. When we stopped by yesterday, they wouldn’t let me past the front doors. Apparently she has some kind of special list, and I’m not on it. I’ll need the receptionist to think I’m with you, visiting your grandmother.”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me to lie,” she said, winking.
I expected a lecture. From Georgia, I almost always expected her to dish out some advice. And most of the time, she was right. But she didn’t say anything this time. She didn’t even look like she wanted to say anything, so I wondered if it was possible that she actually agreed with what I was attempting to do.
I don’t remember exactly when the idea hit me; it was probably sometime last night on my drive home from Desden. I’d figured out this much: I wanted to talk to Gabe’s mom, even though she didn’t want to meet me, nor would she let me come around. I thought I could offer her some perspective, so I needed a way into Evergreen, and a perfect excuse to invite myself into her room. With Fletcher selling tickets today, the whole plan just fell together.
I was tired of standing idly by, watching Gabe’s pain, watching him long for the attention that his mother refused to give him. So I thought I would take a chance, make a move, and hope that it didn’t blow up in my face. All I wanted was to extend a simple invitation, a tiny request to Lenora Bennett. After everything he’d done for me, I wanted to do something nice for Gabe.
“Georgia St. James and Mandy Parker here to see Grandma Ruby,” she said thirty minutes later, and the receptionist at the desk passed her a clipboard. Thankfully, it was a different woman behind the desk today. There was a good chance we were going to get away with this after all.
We signed in, collected our visitors’ tags, and headed down the west wing.
“Okay,” Georgia said, stopping in front of Lenora’s room. “Take your time. I’ll be down in 130. Come get me when you’re ready, and we’ll head back home.”
“Thanks, George.”
“Anytime. Good luck in there.”
She headed down the hall, walking all the way to the far end, where Ruby was in for a surprise visit from her granddaughter. I stood in front of the door where Gabe’s mother resided, and I took a few, long breaths.
Three light taps, and I opened the door.
“Miss Bennett?” I asked quietly, clearing my throat.
She was seated right where I’d expected to find her, looking out the windows at the view of the Evergreen gardens.
She turned her wheelchair at the sound of my voice, tilting her head to watch me as I entered. She was as beautiful as I’d expected Gabe’s mother to be. Between the emerald eyes and the graying hair, I didn’t see much of him in her, but there was something about the way she studied me with her hard expression that felt far too familiar. It was his intensity; he’d gotten that from her.
“I’m sorry to bother you—”
“You’re not on my approved visitors’ list,” she said to me at once, and the sound of her voice broke my heart in an instant. I was a stranger, a complete stranger to the woman, and yet she’d given me seven little words in a matter of seconds—words, something she hadn’t given her own son in nearly six years.
“I understand,” I said, stepping into the room. I didn’t let the door get too far away from me, though. I wanted the possibility for a fast escape if I needed one. “I’m only asking for a minute of your time. Please.”
Her brow quirked, and she gestured for me to go on.
“My name is Mandy, and I worked very closely with your friend, Lashell, at the Raddick Initiative.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her half-parted lips. “I understand that means you know that I’m acquainted with your son.”
“You’re the girlfriend,” she said, opening her eyes and squaring her shoulders. She gave me a once-over, starting from my dark hair all the way down to my sandaled feet.
It was the moment of truth. I’d revealed myself to her, and she had a decision to make: was she going to let me stay, or was she going to throw me out just because of my tie to Gabe? If yesterday was any indication, she had no room in her life to entertain me for even a moment, so I was prepared to turn and walk out at her command.
“Well,” she gnawed at the corner of her lip for a moment, “don’t be shy. Come in. Have a seat.” I looked back to the half-open door for a minute, and then I turned to her. “Please, sit.”
I sat on the edge of a small couch nearby, one that I imagined Gabe had been sitting on for years. How many times had he walked through that door, sat on this couch, and begged for her attention?
She rolled a little closer to me and stopped two feet away. She wasn’t anything so far like I’d expected her to be. She was quiet, yes, but that’s where my expectations stopped meeting with reality. There was something welcoming about her; her presence was overwhelmingly kind. That was another part of Gabe I saw in her, and it made perfect sense. She’d spent years molding him before everything went disastrously wrong. It made perfect sense that she and Gabe would have those basic commonalities.
“I’m not staying long,” I promised, keeping my voice low. “I only came to give you something.”
“A piece of your mind, I’m sure,” she said, cracking a smile.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No.” I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out the embroidered ticket. “This is an invitation to the Sugar Creek High School dance on Friday night. I’d like for you to come.”
“You’re inviting me to a high school dance?”
“It’s not just for the students. It’s open to the public,” I said, but I suspected she already knew the basics. If Gabe had told her about me, about the program, about everything he and Lashell were doing out there, then there was a great possibility that she already knew all about the dance. Still, I continued, “It’s part of a safe driving campaign that our district put together for RI.”
And after learning about the accident, it made a world of sense why Gabe had supported that theme for the dance; it was a little clearer why he’d become so agitated when I ran into him with my car all those weeks ago. Phones didn’t have a place on the road. He wanted to stress that now more than ever.
“We’re inviting friends, family, kids of all ages.” I tried to smile as I sold it, but we both knew the real reason I was sitting there on her couch. I lowered my head and watched my fingers for a moment, and then I glanced back to her. “I know that your relationship with your son isn’t the best—”
“To put it kindly.”
“It could be better,” I admitted. “And I know it’s not my place to come in here and beg you for anything. I can’t imagine what you and Gabe have been through over the years. I only know what I’ve seen in watching you two interact; I see the way he talks about you, the way it hurts him that you haven’t forgiven him.”
She shifted her gaze to the side, no longer looking at me.
“Miss Bennett,” I said. “I’m going to say this one thing on the issue, and I hope you will hear me out. My parents divorced, when I was younger, and it tore me apart from the inside-out. But no big deal, right? Parents divorce all the time. They get up, they go on, and they move on with their lives. But when my parents split, I spent so long focusing on my own pain, on the hurt that they’d caused me, that I never stopped long enough to see the pain it caused them. That divorce broke my heart, but it damn-near killed my dad. It took me four years to see that, and I only saw it because he told me the truth … because I demanded the truth.”
She looked back to me, meeting my stare once again.
“I don’t know what you went through after the accident,” I said. “And I understand that what happened to you was awful.” Her eyes started to well with tears. “Gabe was behind the wheel; he was responsible for your safety, but nothing about that accident was intentional. Knowing Gabe, I’d believe he would’ve rather died that day than to let anything happen to you. So please, before you make the
decision to write him off forever, all I’m asking is that you stop being so much like me.” I looked down to my hands. I couldn’t count the amount of times I had to admit to my selfishness, but this was one time when maybe my selfishness, or the insight I’d gathered because of it, was going to help someone else see that they weren’t doing any good to their family. “Please stop feeling your pain—just for a second, at least long enough to see his. You lost something that day, yes, and I’m sorry. But when you lost your ability to walk, Gabe lost something, too. He lost you. This blame you’re putting on his shoulders … isn’t it time to stop?”
The room fell silent. I was surprised she’d even let me say that much. I wanted to believe that maybe she wanted to hear it as much as she needed to. And after the silent minutes continued to pass, I looked at to the invitation she clutched in her hand.
“I know it would mean the world to him if you came out to Sugar Creek on Friday night, if only for a few minutes. I would hate to think that you don’t care about what he’s accomplished.”
She read over the invite, running her fingers across the letters. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“He wants you there,” I said. “He loves you. All he wants is a chance. He’ll settle for the little successes in his relationship with you, as long as he knows he’s moving forward.”
I knew that for sure because he’d promised me that’s all Mom was after. He knew better than anyone what he was saying when he encouraged me to give my mother a chance. I’m not asking you to forgive her. You don’t even have to say anything. Take a breath, take your time, and give her a chance.
“Please. Let him know you haven’t given up,” I said, trying not to lose my tears. “You and I both know that you haven’t given up on Gabe. He hurt you, and I understand that. Coming from a person who’s been hurt by someone she loves very much, I know how good it feels to have the upper hand, how amazing it feels to torture the people who’ve hurt us. But at the end of the day, we know the difference between right and wrong. Life doesn’t go on forever. Shouldn’t you make the most of it while you’re both still here?”
Breaking Ties Page 12
