Blindsided

by Shey Stahl

  “No they’re not, Landon,” she says sharply, her eyes narrowing. “Stop and think about it. Accidents happen all the time. No one is going to think this is your fault. It could happen to anyone.”

  “You’re wrong. You know why? Because I’m not just anyone, Ember!” I tell her, my attitude haughty. “I’m Landon Slade, and every day the press, my competition, the public, they’re all waiting for me to fuck up. And here we are spoon feeding them everything they’ve been waiting for. But you’re right about one thing. It’s not my fault. It’s yours. All you had to do was get them in the car and to the field. Why is that too much to ask of you? Why couldn’t you handle one simple task?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, her eyes so full of vehemence that I sort of regret everything I’m saying. She’s never looked at me like this before. In all fairness, I’ve never spoken to her like this, but I’ve also never felt fear like this. “No, no. You’re not going to blame me. I’m not to blame. My entire life is taking care of you, those kids, and Cat. And you know it. I don’t even know who I am anymore!”

  Before I can say anything to her, argue that it’s not true or think about apologizing for acting like a complete douche, Nalani comes in with the doctor. He’s holding her and she’s babbling something about her wrist and holding it up in the air.

  “Hi!” And then she spots me, showing me her bandage on her left wrist and forearm. “L!”

  My nerves calm the slightest bit knowing she’s okay, aside from the cast. I take her from the doctor and hold her small body to my chest. I’ve never felt relief like this, knowing she’s okay. For someone who didn’t want kids, I didn’t know this gut churning feeling could destroy you knowing they were hurt and you couldn’t do anything about it.

  The doctor steps forward and extends his hand to me. “Mr. Slade, my name is Dr. Pierce.” I shake his hand. “We took Nalani down and did a CT scan as well as some X-rays, and other than a broken wrist, I’m happy to say that she is okay.” He smiles at her when she knocks the bandage against my cheek and says, “Boop.”

  “We gave her some pain medication.”

  I nod, unable to say anything else. My stare sweeps from Nalani to Ember still standing in the corner. She won’t look at me.

  “There is some minor bruising and a couple of superficial cuts, but your little girl had a guardian angel watching over her because her broken wrist is the only real injury.”

  Nalani lays her head on my chest. “Me wuv you.”

  Nothing melts a man’s heart like the words “Me wuv you” whispered by a baby. Holding her head against me, tears sting my eyes and I look to Ember. She’s refusing to look at me now and is on her phone, probably calling Harper because she knows goddamn well this will be hitting the media worse than it already has.

  Shifting Nalani in my arms, I hold her closer. “I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo. Ya scared me.”

  And then I think to myself, maybe Grant knew after all what he was doing. Maybe these kids were what I needed to make me see there’s more to life than myself.

  With Kasen and Ember’s help, we get all the kids back to the house and Ember spends the majority of that time on the phone with Harper where I make an official statement about Nalani’s condition. I don’t feel I should have to, but I suppose it’s needed.

  It’s when I’m watching her sleep, her arm propped up on a pillow that it really hits me that she fell from a balcony. A fucking balcony that should have killed her. And then what would I have done? I… can’t imagine my life without them now. I know it’s crazy to think, or even say out loud but today really shook me.

  And you want to know when Grant’s death hit me? You were curious when it was going to, weren’t you? It came out of nowhere while I watched his youngest daughter sleep. You know that saying that grief comes with a surge? Or maybe that’s not a saying, and simply what I’m experiencing. It surges through me with every inhale, never fully relaxing as I take long deep breaths. Before long, I find myself searching through the liquor cabinet for relief.

  When Jenna died, in that moment I thought I couldn’t go on without her. Grant’s death was different. I didn’t know him, just the idea of him and then with the kids, it never fully hit me that he was gone. Until now. Until I realized his children are in my hands to take care of. He trusted me to make sure they were safe and cared for, and have I done that? All of it sinks in and the quiet coping I thought I had been doing, spills over and I find myself taking comfort in beer.

  I’m not a drinker. We’ve been over this; Revel’s the drinker in my family, but when I do have a few beers—or five—I say stupid shit and I’m very unpleasant to be around.

  I’ll be the first to admit nothing went as planned today and, unfortunately for me, it’s about to get significantly worse. In every story, there’s a point when the character meets rock bottom.

  You know in the movie Bridesmaids? Yes, I know what you’re thinking… you watched that? Well, yeah, I did. Cat and I have a romantic movie obsession, and if you tell anyone, I’ll fucking deny it. In the movie though, the rock bottom moment comes when Annie goes all ballistic at the wedding shower and destroys the giant cookie and chocolate fountain in unbridled rage.

  Or in Fight Club when Edward Norton discovers he and Tyler are the same person and he’s holding a metaphorical gun in his hand. I still don’t understand that movie, but that was some rock-bottom shit.

  And my personal favorite, Peter in Office Space. I’m not really sure where his rock bottom was. Might have been the whole goddamn movie, but at least he handled it with a smile.

  That’s better than I can say for my rock bottom because this is me. Rock. Bottom.

  And… drunk.

  And here’s where the significantly worse part comes into play. You should probably go ahead and pause here, dear reader. Maybe even stop reading altogether because if it’s a happily ever after you’re looking for, it doesn’t exist. Shit’s about to get crazy from here on out.

  You’ve.

  Been.

  Warned.

  Finishing the last of my beer, I swallow, staring down at the floor. How’d I let this happen? I rub my forehead, trying to make sense of all this. One, how’d I get attached to these kids so much that I’m taking all my shit out on Ember, and two, what are the tabloids going to say about this? Harper and Elliott have both warned me that first thing tomorrow morning, the day before I leave for Miami, a social worker will be coming over to meet with me.

  I walk into the den, and Ember is in there standing at the window, staring out into the yard. She turns when I come in, her body rigid like she’s ready to go to battle. Yeah, well so am I.

  “Explain to me how this happened.” I point to the balcony. Fuck, I’m such a goddamn asshole. “I’m not understanding it, and if I have to explain all this to the goddamn social worker in the morning, I might as well have my story straight.”

  She sighs like she’s already done before we even get started. “What do you want me to explain?”

  “Let’s just say I’m you and standing here. Where was Nalani? How’d she get away? How’d a two-year-old open the sliding door and get out unnoticed? I don’t get it.” I know what you’re thinking, you’re being a douchebag, Landon.

  I know that I am, but I can’t stop myself. Even I’m surprised by the words coming out of my mouth, and I have no idea what I’m saying. It’s like I’ve blacked out or something.

  “Landon, knock it off. God, why are you being such a dick about this?” I say nothing. “Never once have you ever made me feel like I was your assistant. Until today. Until you treat me like this.” I feel like she’s punched me in the stomach. I glance up at her face, searching her eyes. “How does she climb on counters? How’d you find her in the cupboard above the fridge? She likes to climb.” Her words drip with sarcasm. “And it was an accident. What the fuck is your problem?”

  I swallow thickly. I hear her words, but they don’t sink in. I laugh because what else can I do? How
can she not know what my problem is? She slacked on her responsibilities, and now Nalani is in her room with a broken wrist, yet she acts like I’m the one who fucked up. “My problem is I trusted you to take care of them when I wasn’t here.”

  Ember faces me, a breathless gasp falling from her lips. “I didn’t ask for this,” she says matter-of-factly. I look at her in surprise. “I didn’t ask to be your assistant and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be their babysitter. This is on you, Landon. This is your life, and you think because you throw money around you can act like it’s everyone else’s responsibility to handle your problems!”

  I deserve that, but the unpleasant drinker in me is going to go ahead and be on the defense. “My problems?” I laugh bitterly. “You think I asked for this shit? I didn’t ask for my brother to die, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for five kids.”

  I know, I know. You want to fucking punch me in the face. Pretty sure Ember feels the same way. But it’s not her I’m focused on anymore. In that moment, Ember’s eyes shift behind me. The look of surprise on her face causes me to turn to see what she’s staring at. The room grows cold.

  It’s Marley. Standing at the entryway to the kitchen and by the expression on her face, she didn’t just get there. “Marley, I—” I shift to approach her, but she quickly turns and races up the stairs, leaving the slamming of her bedroom door in her wake.

  Shit.

  I turn to look back over to Ember, and she’s gone too.

  Double shit.

  Be honest. You want to hit me, don’t you? Pretty sure you’re not the only one at this point, but in my defense, if I have any at all, I warned you in the beginning I’d fuck this up. At least I think I did.

  “Dude, not cool,” Kasen says, making his way into the den, having heard the entire conversation. He gives me an odd look. I hadn’t realized we had an audience, but in this house, privacy is non-fucking-existent and I’m the least favorite. If this were Big Brother, pretty sure I just got voted out of the house.

  I stare Kasen down. What the fuck is he even doing here still? Right. He’s the nanny and picking up the slack that I can’t seem to handle. I have too much goddamn pride to thank him though, and choose to dig the hole into hell a little deeper. Why not piss everyone off? “That’s not really any of your business, is it?” Kasen shrugs. I clear my throat, feeling guilt creep in. “Are the kids in bed?”

  He nods. “All but Marley.” A door slams shut. “I’m assuming now, yes, they’re all in bed.”

  I gnaw on my lip for a moment, wondering if Ember will let me apologize.

  “Why did you say those things to her? She’s not responsible for her falling, and she’s certainly not to blame for it. It was really harsh.”

  I look up at him and explode because what the fuck right does he have to say anything about how I react? “Excuse me?” I growl, and in a second, I have him pinned against the wall, my forearm against his windpipe. “I should fucking fire you over today.”

  He gives me no reaction. And just like that, I realize I have in fact lost my mind.

  I back away and Kasen coughs as he straightens up. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  I don’t say anything to that, because his words were justified.

  My point? Nothing perfect lasts forever. Even I know that. Even the strongest hands lose their grip.

  Kasen stares at me, his eyes cold like mine. He swallows and then his brow pulls together. “I say this as someone who has lost everything, who’s reacted much like yourself today, but you’re never going to realize her worth. You’re a professional athlete, and everyone looks at you like you’re a god, but until you see that you don’t even compare to someone like her, you’re the one who’s lost everything.”

  I really need to fire this guy.

  I’m not sure what to do, but I know I can’t leave Marley thinking this had anything to do with her and her siblings. Sheepishly, I make my way upstairs and knock on her door. “Hey,” I say, like she’s going to answer me.

  “Go away!” she yells back.

  At least I get an answer. “Not a chance. Open the door.”

  “I said go away! You didn’t want us anyway.”

  I deserve that, but there isn’t a chance in hell I’m letting her go to bed angry at me. Having Ember hate me is enough; Marley too, nope. Isn’t happening. I at least want to explain myself. I should be able to do that, shouldn’t I?

  Maybe don’t answer that at the moment. Leaning my head against the door, I knock again. “If you don’t open the door, I’m going to bust it down, and then you really won’t be able to avoid me in the future.”

  “I’ll move out!” she shouts back, and I think she throws something at the door. If I had to guess, it was a knife and she was carving I hate Landon on her wall.

  Can you guess what I do next?

  Yep. I bust her door down.

  Not really. I unlock it with a hairpin I find in the upstairs bathroom Haisley uses. “Told you I would break in.”

  Sitting on the floor in front of her bed, Marley glares at me. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Her eyes drop to the sketchbook in her lap. “Actually, I can. You don’t care about what we want, so why would you respect our privacy?”

  I invite myself in and sit next to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in the context you took it.”

  She won’t look at me and continues to draw in her sketchbook. “Whatever.”

  I remember being thirteen. It’s a tough age. You’re just starting to figure out your existence in the world. You have feelings you don’t understand, apprehensions about pretty much everything, and then you add hormones on top of that and it’s a jumbled mess.

  My eyes drift over the white paper and the gray markings she has scattered over the page.

  I rack my brain as to what to say to her. And then I start talking, and I have no idea where the words come from, just that they’re spilling out of me. “Sometimes we hurt people without intention. We make mistakes, and we make them again. Sometimes we hurt the ones we love and lose our temper at the ones who don’t deserve it. We place the blame on someone else because it’s easier than admitting you’re wrong.”

  Still, even after that, Marley doesn’t look up, but at least she hasn’t hit me yet, so I continue.

  “Sometimes we make it better though. We choose responsibility when the choice isn’t easy. You tell someone everything will be okay, even when you know it won’t. And you hold them when it isn’t. And you love your uncle even when he’s a fuckin’ dick.”

  That one earns me a slow subtle shake of her head, but do you notice the slight upturn of her lips. She thinks I’m funny.

  I knock my knee into hers. “I know I fucked up.”

  “Why did you say that?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask for you guys. But now here you are, and I can’t imagine you going anywhere.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Sighing, I lay my head back against the end of her mattress we’re propped against. “I know.”

  ACL – Anterior Cruciate Ligament. A ligament in the knee that when torn requires surgery and 9-12 months of rehabilitation for a player to return.

  Have you ever played flag football with boys, and they forget you don’t have a cock and balls and they tackle you to the ground and the wind gets knocked out of you?

  That’s how I feel right now. Like the wind’s gotten knocked out of me, and I can’t catch a breath. I see fucking stars. My lips are numb. Actually numb.

  Are they still there? I touch them to be sure. Yep, there. Just numb… and still tender. Huh. So this is blinding anger? This is what it feels like to be so out of control with your rage that your lips go numb. Who knew? And my face, it’s hot. Really hot. Like I have the worst possible sunburn, and my skin’s going to blister at any moment.

  How could he have said those things to me? He couldn’t have meant them, or di
d he?

  And as badass as I want to appear to others, and feel inside, I can’t hold back my emotions. They’re coming faster than I can control them.

  His words were like knives into my heart, only adding to the fact that I failed. His jaw, the angry way he regarded me, the heat rises in my throat, spreading across my face.

  Landon, my best friend, he said those things to me, and it’s the first time in our friendship he’s ever treated me like his employee.

  God, he’s so mean, yet so wickedly handsome while yelling at me. Fuck, why was it hot?

  Because you’re delusional.

  Hot tears prick behind my eyes. Nope. You will not cry over this. I even told myself I wouldn’t change for him, and I didn’t, did I?

  Yes, you did, idiot. How often do you paint anymore? Truth is, I stopped doing what I loved when I met Landon because he needed me more than I needed myself.

  Hell, I even told myself I wouldn’t change for him. Women should never change for a man, and after Percy, I swore I wouldn’t. Even from a young age, I hated it when a woman changed for a man. I distinctly remember watching Grease, and when Sandy changed her appearance for Danny, I thought to myself, who does that? He either likes you, or he doesn’t. Fuck changing for him. You didn’t see Baby in Dirty Dancing changing for Johnny? It wasn’t like she became a completely different person other than learning how to dance.

  So why did I?

  I wasn’t supposed to fall, but I did.

  It wasn’t supposed to hurt, but it does.

  #stupidAF

  It’s late by the time I return to the guest house. Late enough that Cat’s sleeping and I have nobody to talk to. Usually when I’m upset, or sad, I talk to Landon. If I see his face at the moment, I’ll probably punch him.