by Chris Taylor
“I don’t think that’s any excuse,” Cally said quietly, her gaze lowered to the table.
“Neither do I,” he said. “I told my mother as much at the time.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me it was all that he knew.”
“It still sounds like an excuse to me.”
“I agree,” he said softly.
“Is there more?”
He nodded and dragged in another breath. “My father hated the sound of the vacuum cleaner. The noise used to set him off. I never found out why. My mother learned the hard way to make sure the vacuuming was well and truly finished before he came home.”
He shrugged sadly. “Most of the time, she managed it, but every now and then, my father would come home early.” He closed his eyes and fought off the memories. “I remember hiding under the covers, trying hard not to listen to him beating her, hoping my baby sister, Gracie, couldn’t hear.”
“Oh, Andy,” Cally gasped, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
Ignoring the urge to go to her and lose himself in her embrace, he forged on, determined to get through it.
“My father’s drinking got worse and with it, the violence escalated. I was only ten years old, but I could tell he was completely out of control. One night, I heard him yelling at my mother and I climbed out of bed and went into the kitchen. I was determined to stand up to him, to protect her from his anger.
“I found her cowering near the kitchen sink, my father not far away. The noise must have woken Gracie because she was crying piteously from the room that contained her cot. No one else seemed to notice.” Remembered fear held Andy in its grip, but he forced himself to continue.
“My father advanced upon my mother, his face blotched red with anger. I didn’t know what had set him off, but from the look of fear and resignation on my mother’s face, an ugly scene was imminent. I walked into the kitchen just as my father raised his fist. My mother flinched and brought up her hands to protect her face. I ran toward them and yelled at him to stop.”
His breath came faster and his heart thudded. He didn’t dare look in Cally’s direction.
“He didn’t stop, did he, Andy?” she whispered.
“No,” he gasped, “he didn’t.”
“What happened, Andy?”
“I was frozen with fear. I’d never felt so terrified. But, I knew I had to do something. I was sure if I didn’t, he’d kill her. I shouted at him again, but my words were lost in the sound of his meaty fist as it connected with her face. Blood poured from her lip.
“Fury sent me surging toward him. I didn’t even think. I threw myself on his back and pummeled him with my fists. All the time, I yelled at him to leave her the hell alone.
“My father was a big man. He barely even registered I was there. He threw me off with a sharp flick of his wrist and I flew through the air and slammed into the door of the refrigerator. My teeth went through my lip and I tasted blood.”
Hot tears burned behind his eyes, but he denied them release. He had to tell Cally all of it, while he still had the strength and the courage.
“I wanted desperately to get up and offer help to my mother, but I was bleeding and desperately afraid. Instead, I lay there and watched while she endured yet another beating. Gracie was still crying in the other room, her wails had now reached fever pitch. I lay where I’d fallen, tears drying on my cheeks, hating the man I called my father…hating myself even more.”
The sob he’d tried so hard to hold back burst inside his chest. Tears ran down his cheeks and he was helpless to stop them. As if in slow motion, he watched Cally push away from the table and come toward him, her own cheeks wet with tears.
Her arms went around his waist. He shuddered and sobbed and held on tight, as if she was a life preserver and he was lost in a stormy sea. It was a long time later that he raised his head and offered her a strained smile.
“Thank you.”
She stared up at him, her eyes dark and unfathomable. “For what?”
“For listening; for understanding.”
“None of it was your fault, Andy. Surely, you believe that?”
He stared at her and swallowed hard, dread once again weighing his gut down like concrete. “I haven’t told you everything.”
A shadow passed over her face, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she nodded as if in acceptance and said, “Tell me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in some air. The memory of that awful day had never faded. Nearly two decades later, he could still recall every detail, despite how hard he’d tried to forget it.
When he opened his eyes again, Cally was watching him, her eyes full of warmth and concern. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman cared about how he was faring. Even Nikki had encouraged him to remain independent in all of the ways it counted. Taking courage from the knowledge Cally was different, he stumbled through a recount of what had happened that fateful day.
“Dad came for us at school,” he started, his voice hoarse with emotion. “It was lunchtime and he’d come to the office to pick us up early. The teachers found Gracie on the kindergarten playground. They told her Dad was waiting in the office to take her home. I was in the bathroom. When the teachers came looking for me, they couldn’t find me. I found out later they returned to the office and told Dad they were still looking, but he decided not to wait.” Andy’s voice broke. Once again, Cally moved close and tightened her arms around his waist.
The feel of her pressed against him brought him a comfort he’d never known and he shuddered. Images of his sunny, smiling sister with her white-blond curls and tiny baby teeth filled his head.
“Catch me, Andy! Catch me!” He could still hear her high-pitched voice as she jumped off the trampoline, completely fearless in the knowledge that her older brother waited for her below. He’d never let her fall.
But he did.
“I let her fall, Cally. I let her fall.” Pain tore through him, but he couldn’t give in to it yet. It was going to get worse before it got better.
“What happened, Andy?” She asked the question with so much reluctance in her voice, Andy could tell she was scared of what he was going to say. He wished he could find the words to warn her, but it was all he could do to finish.
“Dad took Gracie home. I didn’t know at the time, but Mom had told him the night before she was leaving and she was taking Gracie and me with her. He phoned Mom at work and told her if she even mentioned leaving him again, she’d have the blood of her kids on her hands. He told her he already had Gracie and if she didn’t come home quietly and forget all about her stupid notion of leaving, she’d never see their daughter alive again.”
Cally’s face paled and her eyes went wide with shock. It was almost as if she could tell what was coming. “W-what did your mom do?”
“First, she phoned the school. She didn’t know if Dad was bluffing. He played with her head like that, sometimes. The school confirmed he’d taken Gracie, but that I was still on the grounds. Mom then called the police.”
Andy steeled himself for what was coming, knowing he had to see it through. “When the police arrived, Dad was inside the house with a gun. He threatened to shoot Gracie if they tried anything. One of the police negotiators asked Dad to let Gracie go. ‘Just open the door and let her come out,’ he said. But Dad wasn’t having any of it.”
“Where were you, Andy?” Cally whispered.
He dropped his arms and stepped slightly away and directed his gaze to the floor. There was no way he could look at her when he told her the final, awful truth. A shudder ran through him, this one heavy with dread.
“When Mom found out I was still at the school, she drove there and collected me. The police were already on their way over to our house and I guess she just wanted me close. When we arrived, the front yard was full of police. I didn’t know what was happening, but I was terrified just the same.
“The police asked Mom if she’d talk to Dad and try and get him to
hand over the gun or at least, let Gracie go. She agreed to do whatever she could and climbed out of the car. I lay down on the floor of our station wagon and hid beneath a blanket.”
His voice cracked. Cally’s eyes were full of tears, but he forced himself to go on.
“The stand-off lasted five hours. Dad refused to give up his weapon and Gracie was going nowhere. The negotiators were at a loss. They gathered together to regroup and come up with a new game plan when we heard them: two shots. Bang. Bang. Dad had shot Gracie and then turned the gun on himself.”
Cally gasped, shock flooding her face. “Oh, my God! Andy! How utterly devastating! How did you ever cope?”
Beyond words, he hauled her in against him as close as was physically possible. Raw sobs of agony were dragged from his throat. He cried for the beautiful little girl whose life had been stolen. He cried for the mother who’d never recovered from her loss. He cried for the young boy he’d been and for the thousands of lonely hours he’d lived ever since.
“It should have been me!” he choked, his voice thick with guilt and grief. “If I’d climbed out of the car, maybe I could have stopped him, gotten Gracie out of the way. Who knows? Instead, I hid like a coward, abandoning my little sister to her fate.”
“No!” Cally’s voice was low and guttural and so different from her usual tone, it startled him momentarily.
“Andy. Listen to me! You’re wrong. You’re dead wrong. It shouldn’t have been either of you! He was the one who was sick. He should have gotten help. He was the adult. You were only a little boy!”
She drew in a ragged breath, her chest heaving. “He was ill, Andy. He was very ill. It was all him, Andy. All him. Not you. Never you,” she said fiercely, staring at him hard.
Andy held her gaze and something gave inside him. The pain and the torment and the guilt over not only his family, but over the death of Wayne Tucker, began to ease and were slowly replaced with relief. He lowered his head and kissed her. Her lips were soft and full of wonder and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt like coming home.
* * *
Cally’s arms crept around Andy’s neck and she tentatively kissed him back. His lips were warm and full and desire kindled low in her belly. She pressed herself even closer against him and felt his erection pushing into her belly. Her nipples hardened with the knowledge of how much he wanted her.
Deftly turning her around, he walked her back against the counter, his lips still melded to hers. She reached out a hand to steady herself and her fingers grazed the kettle. Realization that they were in the kitchen, with Jack only a closed door away crashed in upon her and broke the feverish desire that held her in its grip.
“Jack!” she gasped. “What about Jack?”
Andy lifted his head, his eyes dark with need. Confusion slowly replaced it.
“Jack? Oh, Christ. Jack! What the hell was I thinking?”
His breath came as fast as hers. He struggled to regain control. Cally turned away and put some distance between them. When her breathing had finally returned to normal, she risked a glance in his direction and found him staring at her, looking as shell shocked as she felt.
Recalling all that he’d gone through, she turned back to face him and offered him a shaky smile. “Are…are you okay?”
He compressed his lips, but nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” She stepped toward him and he opened his arms. His heartbeat was strong beneath her ear.
“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I know how hard it must have been for you.”
His arms tightened around her. “Not as hard as I thought it would be.”
She pulled slightly away and looked at him. His eyes were still shadowed with pain. She hesitated, choosing her words with care. “Have you ever talked to someone about what happened? Someone professional, I mean?”
He shrugged. “When I was a child. I was sent to so many therapists, I lost count. None of them really made a difference. Perhaps as an adult it would be different.”
“No one would expect you to get through something like that on your own. As it is, it’s a real credit to you that you’ve managed to keep your life on a straight path.” She paused. “How did your mother cope?”
He sighed. “Not so good. She had a nervous breakdown right after it happened and was admitted to a psychiatric facility. Three years later, she committed suicide.”
“Oh, Andy.” She was devastated all over again. He drew her closer, hushing her softly.
“Hey, don’t look so sad,” he whispered against her hair. “Things turned out all right for me in the end.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
A knock, coming from the other side of the closed French doors, followed immediately by Jack asking for a drink, broke the moment. Cally stepped out of Andy’s arms, guilt and embarrassment heating her cheeks.
“Of course you can have a drink, honey,” she hurriedly called out to her son and slid open the French doors.
“How’s the movie going, buddy?” Andy asked.
“It’s great. It’s only just been released on DVD. Even Jimmy Baker hasn’t seen it yet. Do you think I might be able to invite him over? It would be cool if we could watch it together.”
Cally smiled, her heart filling with warmth at the sight of his excitement. “I’m sure that would be okay, but not today. Andy still hasn’t moved all his things in and it will be dinner time before we know it. How about you invite him over tomorrow?”
“Cool,” Jack smiled, and then he frowned. “Hang on, I thought we were going snorkeling tomorrow?”
Cally glanced at Andy, who nodded. “If it’s okay with your mom, I’m still keen,” he said.
She smiled. “It sounds like fun. Do you mind if I come with you?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to leave Jack alone with me.”
Cally blushed and shook her head, knowing he’d gotten the wrong idea. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do. It’s just that I’d like to come with you. It’s going to be a scorcher again tomorrow. A day at the beach sounds great.”
Andy gave her a wide grin. “We could probably throw a picnic together and make a day of it.”
She felt the warmth of his smile clear down to her toes and her gaze zeroed in on his lips. The memory of their kiss flooded her mind and her heart kicked into a higher gear. “That sounds good,” she managed.
“I might go and bring the rest of my stuff inside. I want to get to the shops before they close.”
She frowned. “I’m pretty new at this roommate thing and I know I said I wasn’t going to cook for you every night, but I’ve made some extra rissoles for dinner. You’re welcome to share them with us if you like. There’s no need to go to the shops.”
“Thanks, that sounds nice, but I’m not going food shopping. I’m going to buy a portable cooler.”
“Oh!” Her face burned. “Do you really think you need one?”
“Yes, but don’t be embarrassed.” He shrugged. “I like to sleep in a cold room. I appreciate the offer of a fan, but I don’t think that’s going to cut it in this heat. Besides,” he added, “I bet it’s pretty cold out there in the winter, too. These old homes aren’t known for their insulation.”
She nodded, warmed by the thought Andy might still be living with them come winter. Besides, if he wanted to go to the expense of buying an air conditioner, she wasn’t going to argue with him. After all, he was right about the heat—and the cold. When she’d decided to advertise for a roommate, she hadn’t thought about the practical considerations of it. In fact, she hadn’t given much thought at all to the comfort of the person who would use the room.
It was comfortable and clean and was far enough away from the other two bedrooms that no one would feel they were intruding on each other’s space.
Of course, there was only one bathroom, but Andy worked shift work and that meant most of the time, there wouldn’t be a rush for both of them to get into the shower at the same time
.
She blushed at the thought of running into him in the bathroom in the early hours of the morning—or at any time—and wondered if she was ready to share her house with a man. The only one she’d ever lived with was her father and that didn’t count at all.
He glanced over at her and frowned, misinterpreting her silence. “Cally, I didn’t mean to offend you. The fact is, it’s damned hot. I do my fair share of nightshifts and I’ll never get to sleep without it.”
“Oh, the air conditioner? That’s fine.” She waved her hand dismissively. If you’re willing to spend your money on one, I’m not going to argue.” She paused. “I was thinking about…other things.”
“Oh?”
She looked away again. “Um, I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but there’s only one bathroom.” She shrugged. “It’s a small cottage.”
He grinned. “No, you must have forgotten to mention that. Along with the fact the sleepout will hit about a hundred degrees in the middle of the day.” His face was a picture of innocence. “Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to mention to me? A leaky roof right above my bed? Creaky floorboards? A window that rattles all night?”
Heat flooded Cally’s face again, but she caught the glint of laughter in his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about the air conditioning thing and the fact you don’t have your own bathroom. I really did forget about mentioning them.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to living without certain things and it doesn’t occur to me to miss them.”
“Hey, it’s no biggie; don’t worry about it.” He grinned at her again, obviously trying to put her at ease. “That reminds me, I have something for you.”
He dug into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a cell phone. “Here.”
“Cool!’ Jack grinned. Cally frowned. “A cell phone? Why are you giving it to me?”
“I bought it for you. You said you didn’t have one.”
“What I said Andy was that I couldn’t afford one. And I still can’t. I don’t want you buying me things you think I should have. I’m—we,” she corrected, “are used to living pretty simple lives. We don’t need flash gadgets and gizmos from the glossy catalogs that flood my mailbox.”
