by Amanda Dick
He looked surprised to see her standing. Didn’t he know? Why didn’t Tom tell him? If he had known, would he have come home sooner? Her head ached as she turned the questions around and around in her head, only coming up with more questions.
By the time they pulled into her driveway, she was near breaking point. She just wanted to get inside and lock the door before she lost it completely. As soon as the car came to a stop, she threw open her door and leaned her crutches against it, lifting her legs out.
“Ally – come on, just wait a minute, please?”
She ignored Callum, pulling herself up using the back of the seat and the door, throwing her hips forward as she heard her braces lock. Reaching down to check them, she grabbed her crutches and slid her arms into them, taking a couple of shaky steps before pushing the door shut behind her.
“Do you want me to stay for a while?” Maggie called after her.
“No thanks. I just need some time to myself,” she called back over her shoulder, not bothering to turn around.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Callum called. “Oh come on! You saw him, the smug bastard! He just expected an apology would be enough, after everything he did?”
“You promised,” she said tightly, making her way up the front path towards her house. She could feel his gaze burning into her back as the conversation continued behind her.
“Go talk to her,” Maggie ordered.
“I’ve tried – you heard me! She won’t –”
“You made a promise and you broke it, what the hell did you expect?”
“That is such bullshit, don’t pretend he didn’t deserve it!”
“Of course he deserved it! For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, but that’s not the damn point is it? The point is she asked you not to do this today and you promised, then went ahead and did it anyway!”
“I only promised not to –“
“Just stop making excuses and go talk to her!” Jane hissed.
“Fine!”
Ally heard him starting up the path behind her and she gritted her teeth, wishing she could walk faster. He caught up with her as she climbed the front steps. She tried to ignore him, placing her crutches on the step above, pulling her body upwards and watching as her feet swung onto the step.
“Please, will you just listen?”
He wasn’t going to let this lie. Drawing in a ragged breath, she stopped.
“I really mean it, I am sorry, and you have every right to be pissed off at me. If he’d just stayed away from us, I could have handled it, but that bullshit apology of his? He should’ve backed off. I gave him enough chances.”
The sincerity in his voice wasn’t enough to diffuse her temper.
“So, screw the fact that you made me a promise – it’s all his fault?” she demanded, trying her best to glare at him over her shoulder without losing her balance.
“No! Well, yeah, but – “
“Save it, this is getting us nowhere.”
She resumed her climb up the steps, but he marched up and stood in front of her, blocking her path.
“Just tell me what it is I did that was so wrong!” he demanded. “I never promised this wouldn’t happen – he deserved it!”
“That’s not the point!” she blurted out, angry tears barely held in check. “And what if he goes to the cops and you get landed with an assault charge? Will it be worth it then?”
“He’s not gonna go to the cops!”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“My money’s on him packing his bags as we speak. He’s got a shitty track record for sticking around when the going gets tough.”
Ally’s heart sank to hear him give voice to her fears.
“It’s obvious you’ve never had to bury anyone you love,” she said. “I’ve been there – twice – and let me tell you, it never gets any easier. What you did today – worst possible timing.”
“I’m sorry I broke my promise to you and I’m sorry about my shitty timing. But I’m not sorry for what I did. He had it coming.”
She choked down the disappointment and fear. “I was dreading today. I was dreading the funeral, seeing Jack – all of it. But it was Tom’s funeral. That’s why I asked you to promise not to do this – not because he didn’t deserve it, but because it was Tom’s funeral and we were there to say goodbye. And we never even got to do that.”
“I’m sorry about that, I really am. But did you expect me to just let Jack do whatever the hell he wanted today? Even though I could see what it was doing to you?”
“Don’t make this about me!” she cried. “You were thinking about yourself! I know you’re pissed at him, but taking out your frustrations on him at his father’s funeral was just wrong!”
Callum rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingertips as if trying to massage the problem away. She knew she had hit home and she was glad he’d got the message, but it didn’t take any of the fire out of her temper.
“Look, I –“
“I don’t want to do this now. I’m tired and I just need some time to myself.”
“Come on, can we just –“
“Just move, please.”
“Ally –“
“Move!” she glared up at him, until he finally stepped aside.
“I’ll come by later,” he said as she climbed the final two steps in silence. “Maybe we can talk properly then.”
“Don’t bother. I’m tired, I’m gonna take a nap. I just want to forget this day ever happened.”
“What if he turns up here again?”
She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath, fighting the anger that rose up inside her. She turned to face him again. “Then I’ll deal with it. I suggest you do the same.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you need to get a handle on this. Don’t let it consume you. You need to let it go.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Let it go. You mean like you have?”
She glared at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, wincing at the movement.
“You look like shit,” she mumbled, her brief glance indicating his battered face and disheveled clothing.
“I’m fine. It was worth it.”
She shook her head and turned her back on him. “See you tomorrow.”
She heard him talking to Jane and Maggie as she unlocked her front door, but by the time she got inside and closed the door after her, the car had pulled out of her driveway. She sighed with relief, taking a few moments to get herself together. Callum’s words still stung.
She thought she had let it go.
Jack didn’t remember driving back to his father’s house. He seemed to snap out of the haze as he stumbled through the front door, collapsing against it as it closed behind him. Callum’s words echoed in his ears, each word beating against the inside of his skull like a hammer blow. Running a hand over his face, he winced as his fingers brushed over the cut Callum’s fist had opened up in his cheek. Calling on all his remaining strength, he forced himself to stand up and make his way into the bathroom.
He grabbed a towel and held it under cold water, dabbing cautiously at the cuts and bruises on his face. He stared at his reflection, holding the wet towel against his cheek. It was as if a stranger stared back at him.
Callum was right, about everything. He didn’t deserve to be at the funeral, his apology was outrageously inadequate, and he had no idea what Ally had been through.
Her face haunted him. He saw her standing in front of him again – no wheelchair, heartache etched into her face. He still couldn’t believe his father hadn’t told him, despite their pact. How long had she been walking? How did it happen? What changed?
He rinsed out the bloody towel under more water, pressing it back on his cheek in a futile effort to reduce the swelling.
Once again, he saw the pure hatred in Callum’s face, the sense of betrayal and anger tumbling out of him.
What the hell did you expect?
Ally sat at h
er kitchen table, watching through the window as the breeze lifted the leaves on the trees in her backyard. She tried to ignore the hollow, empty feeling in her chest but it refused to go away.
She couldn’t get Jack out of her head – the look of hope and relief written all over his face when he saw her standing; the sorrow as he apologised; the reluctant acceptance as Callum had landed that first punch. But what hurt most of all was the raw pain and guilt as he had walked away, bleeding.
What if Callum was right? What if he thought that, after today, there wasn’t any point in staying? What if he had gone back to Tom’s house, packed his bags and taken off again, for good this time? She may never get the chance to talk to him. After all this time, all these years of wondering, he was back, only to disappear again just as quickly?
From deep down inside of her, through the pain and the anger, a desperate need welled up. Where had he been all this time? What had happened to hollow him out like that? She wanted to tell him that she was alright, that she was happy, that he didn’t need to feel guilty about what happened. She wanted to ask him why he left, and now she didn’t care if the truth hurt more than the unsettled ignorance of the last few years.
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. Last time she didn’t have any choice, she was unconscious in a hospital bed, broken and helpless. But not this time. This time she was awake and determined not to let it happen again. She deserved answers and she deserved to be heard. He owed her that.
“Hey – watch it!”
“Don’t be such a baby.”
“Some bedside manner you have there,” Callum grumbled, wincing.
Maggie handed him a beer, peering over Jane’s shoulder as she treated the cut on his cheek with antiseptic. She popped her beer open and took a mouthful before flopping down on the couch beside him.
“You’re welcome to do this yourself, you know.”
Callum frowned and pushed Jane’s hand away. “It’s fine, just leave it.”
“Suit yourself.”
Jane picked up the antiseptic bottle and medical kit and took it back to the kitchen. He stood up, and began to pace the room, taking a long swallow from his bottle. Okay, so Ally was pissed off at him. Wouldn’t be the first time. She’d get over it. In the meantime, what the hell were they going to do about Jack? He had half a mind to head over to Tom’s place right now and make sure he was packing his bags. Maybe he would anyway, on his way home.
Jane came back from the kitchen, scooping up her beer and dropping onto the couch beside Maggie.
“So,” Jane said. “Do you think he’ll stick around for a while?”
“I can’t see it.”
“No way, not after today. The truth hurts,” Callum snapped, hoping like hell he was right.
An uneasy silence filled the room.
“Can you believe him?” he demanded. “Jack? I mean, what the hell was he thinking? He just shows up here and thinks ‘I’m sorry’ will magically fix everything?”
“He came home for Tom, for the funeral,” Jane said, nursing her beer in her lap.
“Well, the funeral’s over so if he’s got any brains he’ll be out of here by morning – if he hasn’t disappeared already,” Callum said acidly.
“Don’t you want to talk to him? Find out where he’s –“
“I’m not interested in where he’s been or what he’s done. He chose to leave, no one made him go. He doesn’t get to stroll back here and try to pick up where he left off.”
Maggie frowned up at him. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, but I just think it took a lot of guts for him to show his face today. It can’t have been easy. He gets credit for that, in my book – not that it changes anything.”
“Like I said, he came for Tom’s funeral,” Callum snapped. “That’s it.”
“Yeah, I know, but he did try to talk to Ally yesterday. He didn’t have to do that.”
“And?”
“Well, I just think that if he had intended to come home, go to the funeral and then leave straight afterwards, he wouldn’t have bothered.”
“What’s your point?”
“Just that maybe he didn’t plan on coming home just for the funeral? Maybe he’s planning to stick around for a while?”
“Do you think so?” Jane asked, sitting forward on the couch.
Callum’s heart raced. “Maybe. Who knows?”
He sank down into the armchair and peeled at the label on his bottle nervously.
“I don’t know. If I’d gotten the reception he did today, I probably wouldn’t be hanging around for long,” Jane said quietly.
“Well, if he knows what’s good for him, he better stay the hell away from me – and Ally. She doesn’t need this shit, she’s been through enough.”
“Yeah, well you’re hardly helping the situation,” Maggie said.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s not exactly a secret. I’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve said you’d rip his head off his shoulders if you saw him again.”
“Yeah? So?”
“No one blames you for feeling like that,” Jane said. “It’s only natural, you have every right. We’re just saying that Ally knows how you feel too, and she’s bound to be worried about how you’re gonna deal with all this.”
“I’ll tell you right now how I’m gonna deal with this, I’m gonna make damn sure he stays the hell away from her!” Callum shook his head, annoyed at the shift in focus. “So, you just leave Jack to me. It’s her we need to keep an eye on, not me.”
He took another swig from his bottle, wishing it were something stronger than beer.
Ally made her way to the front gate and paused, staring at the unfamiliar car in the driveway.
Jack’s car.
She breathed a sigh of relief – good, he was still here. The relief was followed by a flood of uncertainty as she forced herself to continue up the path.
How many years had she been coming here? She knew this house as well as her own. It was unnerving, the thought of walking inside knowing that Tom wasn’t going to be there. Drawing herself up straight, she tried to put him out of her mind. It was Jack she was here to see. The revelation brought a torrent of renewed anxiety with it.
She paused briefly at the bottom of the few steps leading to the porch that swept across the front of the house. Slowly, she began to climb. It only took her a couple of minutes, but by the time she got to the top, all the bravado and determination she had felt in her kitchen half an hour ago had evaporated. What was she going to say? Where should she begin?
You can do this. He owes you some kind of closure. Even if he says nothing, you have things you need to say to him. Just knock on the door.
“Hi.”
She looked up to find Jack standing in the doorway. She froze. She had been lying to herself, she realised too late. She wasn’t ready for this, not by a long shot.
“Come inside,” he said, his desperate gaze holding hers. “Please?”
He had changed out of the torn shirt and jacket, and stood before her in jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He looked very much the worse for wear, his eye swollen slightly, an angry-looking cut on his cheek.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She fought the impulse to turn and make her way back to the car. He moved aside and she maneuvered herself over the doorstep and into the hall. She wanted to cry. It felt wrong, like they were trespassing somehow. She wished like hell that Tom was there.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Jack said quietly, closing the door behind her. “But thank you, for coming.”
He stood facing her, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Had his eyes always been that shade of green? They seemed darker, heavier somehow. God, what was she doing here?
“Ally… ”
Her hands gripped the handles of her crutches even tighter. The questions bolted out of her before she could stop them.
“Why’d you do it? Why’d you leave like that?”
The silence seemed to buzz in her ears, seconds stretching out.
“Why do you think?” he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.
“That’s not good enough,” she shot back, tilting her chin in defiance. “I need to hear you say it – you owe me that.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Look, I… this could take a while. Come through to the living room, I’ll get us something to drink.”
She frowned, afraid of losing her resolve if she moved any further into the house. Before she could answer though, he walked into the living room and she had no choice but to follow.
She had last been here two weeks ago, for dinner. The house looked exactly the same, except for the glaringly obvious fact that Tom was missing. Her heart ached for him. If he were here, he’d be the buffer she felt they desperately needed now. Without him, it was too raw.
Jack poured the drinks, his back to her. To his left, on the side table, was an almost-empty glass that he topped up. Clearly, it wasn’t his first drink today. She couldn’t blame him.
He turned back to her, holding a glass in each hand, indicating the couch. “Shall we sit down?”
She ignored the couch and headed for the small dining table at the end of the room instead. She wanted to put something solid between them, hoping it would help her concentrate. She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she lowered herself into a chair, leaning her crutches against the table beside her. He set the glasses down on the table and pulled out the chair opposite her. She cringed as the chair’s legs scraped against the hardwood floor. Silently begging her trembling hands not to betray her, she reached for her glass and took a quick sip.
Tom had been the one to teach her about whisky – the good, the bad, the difference between blended and single malts, when to have water with it and when to have it neat.
“What do you remember about the accident?” Jack asked quietly, dragging her back to the present.
A black void where her memories should be.
She stared into the glass she held with both hands on the table in front of her. “Nothing. I don’t remember a thing. Callum told me what happened, after.”
