Carry Me Home

by Jessica Therrien

  “Really?” I’m not sure how I feel about both of my kids being away, but I like the idea of Lucy getting out of Glendale, away from drugs and bad influences. “So you’ll go to school?”

  “I’ll go to Cal State. We’ll enroll her in high school. Hopefully I’ll be a good example and she’ll do better.”

  “I don’t know, Ruth. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “No more than I’m already used to. And let’s be honest, she’s more likely to listen to me. I’m the only one who can help her get back on her feet. It has to be me.”

  I nod. She’s right. Lucy opens up to her. It might work.

  “What about you and Josh, though? Won’t he be upset you’re not going with him?”

  Her eyes lose their hopeful shine. “I haven’t told him.”

  “Ruth,” I say, torn between the health of one child and the happiness of another. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I do,” she says with a curt nod. “I can’t let her get back into drugs. If something happens to her, I’ll...I don’t know what I’d do.”

  My heart fills with a mix of pride and heartbreak.

  “All right.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Ruth

  I WAIT FOR LUCY to feel better before I confront Josh about my decision. I haven’t seen him since she came home.

  I’m sitting on the steps of our apartment complex waiting for him. When he drives up, he smiles at me through the window of his VW Golf the way he did that first time I ever rode in his car. That smile, it makes it hard for me to stand.

  Right now, in the shade of this Jacaranda canopy, the distance between him and me is all that’s left of us, of this time together before he knows it’s over.

  “Hey,” he says as I open the door to our end.

  “Hey.”

  He kisses me, offhandedly, because I’m sure he expects there to be a thousand more, but I know better so I hold on to it. I relive the feeling of his kiss as he drives, trying to force myself to remember how soft and yielding his lips are against mine.

  We park in our secret dead-end driveway spot. It’s oddly fitting for what I have to say.

  “How’s your sister?” he asks.

  I’ve missed him. I want to answer, but it feels better to just look at him. Right now, he’s still mine.

  He reaches for my hand, his strong fingers holding my delicate bony knuckles so comfortably. Our palms fit together like they know each other.

  “Uh oh. Is she okay? What happened?”

  “She’s fine,” I answer mechanically. “Well, not fine, but she will be.”

  “That’s good. You think you’ll stay over tonight or—”

  “I can’t go to Boston with you.”

  He stares at me like I’ve just slapped him in the face. Sunken brow, parted lips.

  “Why?”

  “She asked me to stay.”

  “Wait, Lucy?” he shakes his head and pulls his hand away. “She’s just going to turn around and disappear again.”

  “That’s why I have to stay. To make sure she doesn’t.”

  He sighs with a hitch in his throat, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “Well, won’t she be with your mom? I don’t get it, I mean, do you just not want to go? Is this your way of—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “No, trust me.” How could he think I didn’t want to go? “I love you. So much. It’s just...she’s my sister. I can’t just leave her when she asked me to stay. She needs me.”

  “She needs you? She’s been awful to you. She hasn’t cared at all how she’s affected your life or your mom’s, and you’re just willing to give up everything with us because she asked you to?”

  “She could have died, Josh. It’s easy for you to say ‘just forget about her’ but it’s a harder thing to do when you’re the one making the decision. What if something happens to her, and I’m not here? I’d never be able to live with myself. Besides, I can’t lose her. No matter how crazy she is, I love her.”

  He studies the riveted texture of his steering wheel for too long. I don’t interrupt his silent thoughts. Instead, we sit together in our heartbreak, angry and thwarted, resisting the sad truth. We love each other. It should be easy. Isn’t love all you need?

  “I’m sorry I’m angry,” he whispers. “I just want to be with you. I guess that’s selfish, but...I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

  The understanding look in his eyes is what finally makes me cry. I swallow down the sting, and let the tears crawl down my cheeks.

  “We have two weeks,” he says, reaching for my face. “Then we can talk on the phone. I’ll fly home a lot. Long distance can work.”

  I nod, knowing better than to believe him. If we were adults, maybe, but I won’t let myself fall for that naïve dream. An attractive, smart, talented musician doesn’t go off to college and save himself for the girl back home. Or maybe he does, but I can’t let my heart hope for that.

  I kiss him, and it makes it better, just for that tiny moment.

  He convinces me to stay with him. That even if I have to be with Lucy over these next two weeks, we deserve one last real night together.

  I agree. Mom’s with Lucy tonight, and Josh’s parents are used to ignoring us, so we lock ourselves in his room.

  “You know I’m serious about this long distance thing,” he says.

  We’re just lying in his bed together. In our clothes but under the covers. It seems like the only thing either of us wants to do after such a defeating conversation. Heartbreak isn’t the right word. It’s not just my heart, my whole body aches with sadness.

  “We can give it a shot,” I say, curling into him. My head fits perfectly on his shoulder, and I close my eyes against the warm skin of his neck.

  It feels impossible to let go, to live without this feeling. I find it hard to talk to people, to be “normal” in any social circumstance, and I finally found someone who not only likes to hang out with me, but loves me.

  I must be insane. Is it awful of me to want to leave her? I know I can’t, but there is a part of me that hates her for it, yet loves her all the same. I keep taking her in, welcoming her into my world, hoping she’ll change. Over and over again I drag her through life, picking up the pieces. What if it’s never over? When will it be okay for me to let her fall, for me to walk on and not look back with regret?

  Probably never, because I’ll always trust that one day she’ll fight her way out of this and I’ll have a sister worth it all. I can’t help it, that tiny seed of hope is planted in my heart, like a deep truth the world has yet to uncover.

  “It might not be right now or in a few years, but one day I’m going to marry you,” he says, his breath warming my hair. “You’re the best I’ll ever do. You’re it, you know.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I have to. I need you to know it.”

  I sigh, pushing away thoughts of forever love. “I don’t want you to go to college and not be able to be free. We can do the long distance thing, but if you fall in love with someone, or if I fall in love with someone (yeah right) either one of us just has to say the word. It’ll be that easy. I don’t want to hold you back.”

  “Why are you talking like that, like there’s no way it could work? You have to accept the possibility that we could be meant for each other.”

  “Let’s make a deal,” I say, detaching myself from my feelings. “When we turn thirty-five, if we’re both single and have no kids, we’ll find each other.”

  I’m far away when I say this, like he has already left, but his kiss pulls me back. We stop talking. There’s nothing more to say, but the feel of his moving lips on the dip above my collarbone speaks more than words.

  I’ve already conceded to this moment, given myself permission to let it all in, just one last time. He pulls his shirt off. I take care of my own. There are no surprises as we undress, no pent up lust that sends us into a flurry of rough kissing and eager hands.

  I know his body and he kno
ws mine. The slow tender touch of skin on skin, of being closer than we’ve ever been but in other ways. It’s hands in hair and cheek to cheek. It’s tears in my ears as we’re wrapped up tight in each other. Upper thighs and strong arms. Deep breaths and gentle lips.

  One day I’ll come back to this moment, like a dog-eared page in my favorite book.

  CHAPTER 42

  Lucy

  I’M NOT GOING TO LIE. I’ve been thinking about it, about dancing atop that beautiful cloud of white smoke. I want it and I don’t. The worst of my withdrawal is over, and the antibiotics are working against my infection, so other thoughts are beckoning me away from the need to be high. Gabe mostly.

  I’ve been hiding out in my room with Ruth. She’s the best distraction, but tonight she’s gone, and I’m left to stare at the ceiling once Mom’s asleep. I try and remember the last thing Gabe said to me when he dropped me off after a tweak binge. I wonder if he thinks of me, if he’s tried to call or find me. My phone has been lost for weeks. Or maybe I traded it for a fix. I can’t remember.

  No part of me wants to disappear again. I’m done with drugs, with bad people, and worse choices, but I need to see Gabe again. He isn’t bad, no matter what Mom and her boyfriend think. I know if I’m planning to adhere to their rules and be the good girl I want to be, I won’t be allowed to see him. Tonight might be my last chance before Ruth and I move to Long Beach. I have to take it.

  A little hum of excitement is set free inside me as I pick out some of Ruth’s nicer clothes and straighten my hair. I’m thin, but still beautiful. A thick layer of makeup is the perfect disguise. You’d never guess I was sleeping in a bathtub a week ago.

  I’ll be quick, I tell myself. Back before anyone knows I’m gone, and I won’t sneak out again. I make that promise to myself.

  As I grab Mom’s keys I hesitate at the door, thinking of how she’ll feel if she finds me gone. I leave her a note. Went to say goodbye to Gabe. No drugs. I promise.

  I feel right about it, even as I’m pulling Mom’s car out of the driveway, but something makes me slam the brakes before I drive onto Maple St.—Ruth. She’s walking on the sidewalk and I have to stop for her on my way out the gate.

  There’s nowhere to hide. She looks straight through the windshield, her features instantly sharpening with outrage the moment she sees me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she yells through the closed window.

  I roll it down, anxious to explain. “I left a note. I’m going—”

  She pulls on the handle of the driver’s side door, but I lock it before she can get it open.

  “Lucy,” she coaxes in a stern motherly voice. “Get out.”

  “No.” Our eyes are at war with each other. I can’t back down. “Let me explain, okay? Just get in.”

  She considers it. “Fine, but get out of the driver’s seat.”

  I concede and slide over the center console into the passenger side before clicking the unlock button.

  “Where were you going?” she asks. I can see her trying to analyze my clothes, my hair and makeup, trying to figure things out on her own.

  “To see Gabe. To say goodbye.”

  “Really? Don’t lie.”

  “Really. We’re moving to Long Beach. This was my last chance to see him, explain things, you know. I left a note for Mom. I was going to be right back.”

  “You don’t have your license,” she says, glaring at the road ahead of us.

  I change the subject. “Why were you out here at 3am?” I ask. That’s almost weirder than me driving Mom’s car out of the garage. “I thought you were staying with Josh tonight.”

  She looks at me, and I can tell his name makes her sad. “I was worried about you,” she answers, but she’s still thinking about something else, staring off in the distance.

  “Sorry,” I apologize, but then she starts driving. “What are you doing?”

  “Just one quick goodbye. How do we get there?” she asks. “To Gabe’s.”

  * * *

  Ruth waits in the car while I use the pebble trick to tap on Gabe’s second story bedroom window. I’m on rock number ten, ready to give up when the front door opens.

  It’s him, thank God.

  His eyes are squinty with sleep, but he smiles, nodding for me to come in.

  I look back at Ruth, who I know is watching me suspiciously from the quiet car. I can feel her spying eyes, but I want her to see that I’m here for what I said I was. It’s better she came. Proof that I’m not lying.

  Gabe’s house is dark and quiet, but familiar. It’s warm inside and smells like spaghetti, in a good way, like it’s what they had for dinner. He sits on the couch and waits for me to sit by him.

  When I do, I realize his eyes aren’t squinty from sleep. He’s fully clothed. There’s an almost empty glass bottle on the coffee table. He’s drunk.

  The little goodbye fantasy I’ve created in my head sails away on a river of vodka.

  “What’s going on?” I ask quietly.

  “What’s going on with me?” he answers. “You’re the one who disappeared.”

  I hang my head. “Yeah, I know.”

  I can’t judge. God knows my wrongs are stacked high. I sit next to him, ignoring the stench of alcohol. We’re so close that my side is flush with his, and he wraps an arm around my shoulder. I’m not afraid of drunk Gabe, but I’m worried about him.

  “I’m clean now, though. I wanted you to know that.”

  “I knew you would get there. I’ve been waiting.”

  “Have you heard from Dani? Or Paco?”

  “Yeah, those two fucks got arrested together. Some Romeo and Juliet shit.” He laughs to himself.

  I’m not surprised. It’s actually a relief to know they’re safe and not dead in an alley somewhere. “At least they’ll get clean, right?”

  He nods.

  “I’ve missed you,” I say.

  I push my lips against the line of his jaw, and he makes the best humming sound in his chest at the feeling of me close.

  “Me too,” he says.

  Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he doesn’t hesitate in kissing me. He turns and presses his open mouth to mine and I’m lost in the feel of it. It’s almost as good as being high. Almost.

  He breaks away. “It’s just bad timing.”

  “Bad timing?” How does he know this is a goodbye?

  “I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour.”

  “Oh,” I say, because where could he be going after drinking a bottle of vodka? Maybe the bottle wasn’t full, I tell myself. He doesn’t seem wasted. “That’s okay. I’m not staying.”

  “Where are you going?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  “I’m done with drugs, Gabe. My sister is waiting in the car. I...” It’s harder to get the words out than I expect. “I came to say goodbye. I’m moving to Long Beach with her.”

  He laughs quietly to himself.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Maybe it’s good timing then, not bad.”

  “What are you talking about with the timing?”

  He gets up and heads toward the kitchen. “I’m taking care of something tonight. Not sure how it’s going to go down. Goodbye might be a nice end.”

  I’m starting to get nervous, all this talk of timing and the end. He’s oddly unruffled and distant.

  “Gabe...” I call after him as he disappears around the corner.

  I hear the metallic click of a gun, and jump to my feet. “Gabe.” I run for the kitchen waiting for it to go off, to find him dead on the floor, but I run right into his chest.

  The scream flies from my mouth out of sheer surprise, and he cups his hand to my lips.

  “Shhh.” His brow is sunken in frustration. “You’re gonna wake everyone up.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, searching his hands for the gun. It’s not there. “I thought...”

  He’s holding me, close enough to kiss me again, but he doesn’t. He tethers his arms around me in a hug, pressing
the side of his face into mine. It’s warm and perfect. Drunk Gabe isn’t shy. He holds me that way for a long time, and I stay.

  “You’re my luz,” he says. “Always.” Then he pulls away, and walks to the front door. “I’m out. Tell your sister I said ‘hi’ okay?”

  I want there to be more to our goodbye, and maybe there would be if something wasn’t so off about tonight. He’s drinking alone, acting weird, gun sounds in the kitchen. I’m not buying it, whatever he’s trying to pull.

  “Okay,” I say, stealing one last press of his lips. “I’ll miss you.”

  I memorize his face, his long eyelashes and kind eyes, then run toward the shadowed spot where Ruth parked.

  “Hey,” I say, waking her as I open the door. I watch Gabe lock up and get in Paco’s old car. “Something’s up, Ruth. Follow him.”

  CHAPTER 43

  Lucy

  “WHAT?” RUTH JOLTS, jarred by the abrupt influx of sound I’ve brought into the peaceful car.

  “Follow him,” I yell at her.

  She jumps, startled. Her tired eyes force open. “Why?”

  I reach over and turn the key, starting the car for her, and by then she’s awake and alert. She peels out of the parking spot and drives too fast toward his car.

  “Slow down. Don’t go all crazy. He can’t know we’re following him.”

  “Tell me what’s going on,” she demands in total confusion.

  “I don’t know. He’s acting weird. I swear I heard him cocking a gun in the kitchen.”

  “A gun?” Her voice reaches a dramatic pitch.

  “I don’t know, okay? I just want to make sure he’s not going somewhere to kill himself or something. Besides, he’s drunk. He shouldn’t be driving.”

  “Then we should call the police!”

  “Please, just wait. I’m begging you.”

  “Fine. But if this gets crazy I’m turning around and we’re going home.”

  The sun isn’t up yet, but the sky is turning a light shade of blue, the subtle glow before the sunrise. The hint of daylight allows me to see Paco’s faded blue Hyundai a littler clearer. He’s not swerving, but I’m still worried.