Unveiling The Sky
Page 11
It had been about a week since Alara and I had sat and talked under the stars. We had seen each other a few times since then, but every time she seemed a little shy, like she was embarrassed because I saw her so vulnerable. I was hoping time would change how timid she had become, because I planned on knowing all of her. Even the things she tried to hide.
I liked her. A lot. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized just how weird my relationship with Miranda really was. And Alara and I weren’t even in a relationship. Yet. I hoped.
But as my mother’s birthday drew closer, I pulled away a little. Not enough to draw attention, just enough that I could be a miserable bastard for a few days and not have to worry about taking it out on her.
Three days before our mother’s birthday, I invited Sam over hoping to get a feel for what she was planning to do. I still hadn’t spoken to my father, so I had no way to know if he was going to do anything. The chances were low, but maybe he would consider it for Sam.
Sam and I had just started casually talking when Derek strolled in after his lunch shift at the bar. “Hey guys.” He nodded to both of us before grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge. “What are you two up to?”
“Not much. She only got here about ten minutes ago.”
“I need to grab a shower, but do you want to grab a game after?” he asked while nodding to the Xbox.
“Uhh…” I trailed off as I glanced at my sister. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I couldn’t ask Derek to leave his own apartment. Maybe he could just go in his room? “I’m not really in the mood to play. Plus Sam and I have some things we need to discuss.”
His eyebrows rose and his gaze shifted between us as he opened his mouth to speak. But it wasn’t his voice I heard.
“It’s okay. You guys can play and I’ll just stay and hang out.” Sam reached out and gripped my forearm before pointing to her bag. “I’m actually in the middle of this really great book, so this works better.”
“Sweet!” Derek clapped his hands once before rubbing them together. “I’ll be out in ten,” he hollered as he disappeared into the bathroom seconds before we heard the pipes groaning through the walls.
I turned to look at Sam but she was already up and moving toward her bag, and when she returned to the couch she still wouldn’t look at me. Christ. She did all that on purpose.
“Sam—”
“I know.” Her voice was soft but strong as she scrolled through her Kindle. “But I can’t come with you.”
“What?”
She finally gave me her eyes when she looked up, and I almost wished she hadn’t. There was so much sadness in them I felt like I was drowning. “I can’t go with you and do all Mom’s favorite things.” I frowned as I let that sink in; I hadn’t even thought about that. But I should have—during the years she was sick, that was our thing.
Sam would stay at home with Mom and entertain her, while I went out to some of her favorite places. I took pictures and brought back things when it was appropriate. It was the cheesiest thing I’d ever done, and my mom loved it.
“I just wouldn’t be able to handle it,” Sam finished as she broke through my thoughts.
“I understand.” I frowned as she dismissed me and began reading. Clearly the conversation was over. Even though I had figured out what I’d be doing, I still had no clue what Sam was going to do, and it seemed I wouldn’t be finding out. As her eyes flew across the screen, my frown deepened because I realized the only reason I thought Sam was fine and “healed” was because she hid it really freaking well. Where I had been a hurricane, a force you could see coming, making my anger known to anyone within a hundred miles—Sam was an earthquake, all the damage happening under the surface, only to be made known when the break suddenly occurred. The only time I got a glimpse of the impending crack was when we talked about Mom, but she always made sure to shut that shit down quick.
“All right, so what game am I gonna kick your ass at?” Derek asked as he came into the room, still pulling his shirt over his head and completely unaware of the underlying tension and sorrow.
“Pick whatever.” I waved my hand toward the console before going into the kitchen and grabbing one of what would be many beers.
…
Thirty hours. All I had to do was make it through the next thirty hours and my mother’s birthday would be behind me. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the couch just as two quick knocks sounded on the front door.
I’d barely had time to lift my head before Naomi and Alara walked in and threw their bags on the floor. Naomi was already talking a mile a minute, but I heard very little of what she said; my eyes were on Alara as she took off her coat. Each pull of a button revealed more of her, until she was standing in a simple maroon V-neck long-sleeve shirt and black jeans that disappeared into dark brown boots. She offered me a quick smile as she threw her coat on a chair.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking at Naomi. “And why are you wearing a coat?” I turned my gaze on Alara and pointed to the item she’d just discarded. I wondered if either of them noticed that my tone had warmed several degrees between Naomi and Alara’s greetings.
“Geez, it’s nice to see you too, Gabe.” Naomi shot me an annoyed look and then disappeared into Derek’s bedroom.
I rolled my eyes as Alara flung herself down on the couch beside me.
“It’s only a light coat and I absolutely love this time of year, but it’s over so quickly, so I’m going to wear all the things I can tolerate.” She paused and looked out the window. “It just smells different, you know? And everything is so festive. I’m finally able to wear scarves and boots. And there’s all the pumpkin flavored things… it’s just… awesome,” she gushed.
I grumbled a halfhearted affirmative, keeping my attention on the TV. Truthfully it had been my favorite time of year too, because it was also my mother’s favorite, and she would light up every year on September 1st and carry that glow all the way through the New Year. She loved the holidays, and as much as I would have loved to keep up with all her traditions, it hurt too much. My father always had a convenient excuse for not being around during them, so it had always been just Sam, Mom, and me.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked before nudging me with her elbow.
“Nothing,” I replied on autopilot. My mood hadn’t improved since hanging out with Sam two days ago. The rest of the evening had been stiff and awkward, and I hadn’t heard from her since. After she left I was at the gym for three long hours trying to work off my frustration and shitty attitude, but when I came home and snapped at Derek, I realized it hadn’t quite worked. I didn’t know if it was my attitude or something else, but he hadn’t been back to the apartment since he left that night. The only time I saw him was at work yesterday during a shift change.
“Riiiight,” Alara said, not hiding her disbelief as she broke me from my thoughts. “What are you watching?”
“Sports highlights. You can change it.” I tossed the remote down between us, got up and walked into the kitchen. With my head in the fridge I continued to hear this week’s highlights as Alara’s footsteps echoed closer.
“Seriously, what’s going on? We came over because Derek asked us to check on you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but Alara spoke again, halting my next words. “And on the off chance you’re going to lie and say you’re fine again, just consider that when Naomi gets back in here she will wear you down. I’ve learned it’s usually best to just cave early—you’ll use less ibuprofen that way.” I closed the fridge empty-handed and turned to face her, getting the first good look at her face since she came in, and my breath caught in my throat at what I saw. She glowed. Exactly like my mother used to.
“What?” she asked as she began fidgeting. “I know Naomi’s pushy and Derek can be an asshole but they really just care about—”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” I blew out a breath and regarded her soft, expectant expression before continuing. “My mother p
assed away last year and it’s...” I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she whispered. It was so low it came out as a breath instead of a word. “I—I’m sorry. How old would she have been?”
“Forty-three.”
She nodded before joining me on my side of the kitchen. Both of us were leaning against the counter, inches apart and staring straight ahead without saying a single word. “Look, as you can see… I’m fine. So you can tell Derek you did what he asked and be on your way.” I motioned to the front of the apartment before reopening the fridge and grabbing a beer. She said nothing as I took a long pull.
“So, did ya find out what’s wrong with him yet?” Naomi asked as she walked into the kitchen and jumped onto the counter across from us.
I stayed quiet as Alara shifted nervously beside me. “He’s just having a bad day. We all have them, there isn’t always a reason.”
“Derek’s been staying at our apartment for the past two nights.”
“So?” she said with a shrug.
“So, Alara? So I call bullshit.” She brought her gaze back to me. “Look, I like you and I don’t know what’s going on, but he shouldn’t be exiled from his own apartment. If this is going to be a regular thing—”
“He wasn’t exiled and it won’t be a regular thing. Look, I was an asshole to him a few nights ago and he hasn’t been back since. I’ll apologize and explain, but he has to be the one to come home, so I have no idea why he’d send you guys.” My voice was gruff even to my own ears as I lifted my bottle to take another large “sip.”
Naomi cut Alara a questioning look before her eyes softened and she nodded. She jumped down from the counter and started wordlessly out of the kitchen. Pausing at the divide between the kitchen and family room, she turned around. “I’m sorry. Derek hasn’t said anything; he’d probably be pretty mad if he knew we were here bothering you…” She trailed off as her gaze bounced between the two of us. I looked at Alara for the first time since Naomi came in, and though she tried to hide it, I saw her wide eyes and the quick shake of her head.
“I’m gonna head out now, I’m getting dinner with Caleb. Gabe, do you think you could give Alara a lift home?”
My eyes never left Alara’s profile, and with a nervous glance in my direction she started toward Naomi. “Uhh… that’s okay. I’ll just leave with you now.”
I cleared my throat and stood up a little straighter. “I’ll take Alara home.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and turned just her head to look at me before responding.
“Are—are you sure?”
I nodded and tried my best to offer a genuine smile before lowering my gaze to the bottle in my hand.
“Great! I’ll see you later then.” I looked up in time to see Naomi flash us a pleased grin before practically running out of the apartment, almost like she wanted to leave before we could change our minds.
“What’d she mean?”
“Huh?”
“Naomi. She said Derek would be pissed if he knew you guys were here, but you told me he asked you guys to come check on me…” I trailed off and raised my brows.
“Oh… right.” She bit her lip and her cheeks turned pink. “Derek didn’t exactly ask us to check on you.” She shrugged shyly. “When he came to crash at our place I asked what was going on. All he would say was that something was going on with you and it seemed you needed some space. And like Naomi said, he asked us not to come over but I… I mean… we’re friends, right?”
“Yeah, we’re friends.” This time I didn’t have to force a genuine smile, it came naturally. And I was grateful when her tense and unsure posture turned loose and more confident.
“Okay, well friends are there for each other, even if one of them is being an asshole. So…” She trailed off as she walked by me and out of the room. I followed and leaned against the doorjamb while she dropped to the couch.
“Alara…”
She continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Sooo… grab yourself another beer”—I looked down to see it was almost empty—“pick a movie, and have a seat.” When she patted the spot next to her all I felt was relief and for a moment, just a moment, I forgot why these days were going to be so hard.
…
Two and a half beers later, I was channel surfing when I came across my mom’s favorite movie, The Sound of Music. God, she loved this movie. She would watch it on her birthday, on sick days, on rainy days, on random Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings.
“That sounds nice.” Alara’s voice waded through the fog of my thoughts as I slowly registered that I must have spoken aloud. “It’s always good to have a movie like that.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me something else,” she whispered softly.
She turned toward me, leaning her right arm on the back of the couch with her legs curled under her. I muted the television, tipped my head back and closed my eyes. “Hmm… she loved lilies and rubies. She hated reality television and going to the beach. She always made macaroni and cheese during rainstorms. She was… the best parent a kid could ask for. My dad was always gone, and even when he was home he wasn’t really there. But my mom tried so hard to make up for it, to be a mother and a father. She learned all about football and would organize game nights for me and all my friends. When there was a father-daughter dance at school, my mom went to her childhood home that she was disowned from and begged her dad to go with Samantha.” My eyes burned as I thought about how hard that must have been for her. I rolled my head to the side, and when I opened my eyes I found Alara’s warm smile and soft eyes focused solely on me. “She gave us everything we ever wanted.”
“She sounds wonderful.”
“She was.” My brows furrowed as I shook my head and continued. “But the problem with giving us everything, was that when she died she took everything good in our world with her.”
Alara looked at me with unmistakable pity, but she offered no meaningless apologies. As I took in her slight frown and wary expression, I realized she seemed to be debating something and I thought back to everything I’d revealed, and all the questions one would naturally ask. Why was your dad always gone? Why was your mother disowned? How’d your mother die? And I could tell she wanted to ask them, but instead she simply asked me my mother’s name.
“Rachel.”
She smiled and looked at the ceiling before murmuring, “that’s pretty.” I continued to stare at her until eventually her eyes found mine again.
“Yeah, pretty,” I whispered. Her slight smile told me she thought I was talking about my mom’s name. I wasn’t.
“It was cancer,” I said a few minutes later; at least I was able to answer one of her unasked questions. She nodded and we spent the next few minutes in silence, just staring at each other.
“Thanks for being here. I thought being alone would be better, but…”
She took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her pants. “Sometimes we think we want to be alone, when really all we want is the right person to be alone with.” I saw her hand twitch, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it looked like she wanted to reach out and touch me. My eyes left hers, but I let my hand float toward hers until I felt her soft, smooth skin. Slowly I wrapped my hand around hers and held it. We sat like that for several seconds before she tentatively shifted her hand and weaved her fingers through mine. Palm to palm, I felt a disturbance in the smooth skin—a slightly raised line ran along hers. I gazed down to find that her sleeve had ridden up slightly and exposed a jagged scar on the heel of her hand, disappearing into where ours connected. When I looked up at Alara I noticed her staring at our hands intently, like it was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.
“What is it?”
“Hmmm?” She slowly lifted her head and met my gaze.
“You just… you look confused or something. Am I making you uncomfortable?”
She shook her head and bit her lip shyly. “No, it’s not that.”
“You ever held hands with someone before?” I joked.
She looked embarrassed when she answered. “Not really. Unless I was helping someone up or ice skating… there’s always a lot of hand-holding in ice skating unless I want a bruised ass.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
I squeezed her hand. “What’s so wrong with having your hand held every once in a while?” I asked, ignoring her attempt at deflection.
Her expression turned somber as her gaze drifted over my shoulder. “People tend to drop it.”
We continued holding hands for the rest of the movie, and whenever he had to let go, he always made sure to give my hand a reassuring squeeze when he grabbed it again.
“Alara.” The whisper came right before a hand gently shook my shoulder. I slowly came awake, realizing that sometime during the movie I must have fallen asleep on Gabe’s shoulder. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I gingerly sat up and gave him a rueful smile.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out on you.”
He smiled as he brushed hair from my face. “I didn’t mind.”
“What time is it?”
“Ten after eleven.” He grimaced as he pushed himself off the couch. “I should have woken you sooner.” I waved him off before standing up as well. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”
He grabbed my hand once more and led me out of the apartment and down toward his car. I smiled as he held the door open for me, keeping his hand in mine until the very last second. We drove to my place in silence, our linked hands resting comfortably on top of the center console. Sometime during the drive, my eyes drifted shut and my head tipped back against the headrest. When I felt the car pull to a stop and heard the engine turn off, I opened my eyes and rolled my head in Gabe’s direction.