by J. M. Miller
Ben ran inside his house for the keys and Gavin got into the car. Izzy and Spaz were talking to Gavin when Ben came back outside. He placed the keys slowly into my palm. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m sorry that it happened.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, wanting it to mean so much more.
His eyes closed for a moment, possibly wanting the same. “Be careful with reverse. She sticks like she hates to move backward.”
I nodded.
After grabbing my wallet from the house and driving twelve stressful minutes, Gavin and I pulled into the emergency room parking lot. As soon as I laid eyes on the small hospital, I realized that I hadn’t driven as cautiously as I should have. The details stirred together in one big bucket of anxiety. Autopilot had taken over and it delivered us safely even though it’d been months since I’d driven a stick.
We stepped inside the ER, instantly assaulted by the megawatt fluorescents and the biting fumes from a recent disinfectant wipe-down. Gavin took a seat in one of the several vacant chairs as I walked to the glass window.
“Have a seat and fill this out. We’ll be with you in a minute,” a preoccupied nurse said, sliding a clipboard through the window’s lower partition while keeping her eyes on a computer screen.
“Thanks,” I replied, happy she hadn’t bothered with small talk. I slumped into the seat beside Gavin and started filling in the boxes. “Can you call Dad while I start this? He’ll have to finish the rest when he gets here.”
Gavin turned his head, staring at me with his brows drawn up. “I called him in the car, remember? He’ll be here soon.” He rested his injured forearm on his thigh and looked at the three other people in the waiting area—all statues watching a muted CNN with fake attention.
“Oh. Okay.” I pressed the pen to the paper, my hand trembling slightly. I don’t remember the call.
When I finished filling out Gavin’s basic information, I tapped the pen on the clipboard and stared outside for a while. Two EMTs chatted beside an ambulance out front, apparently taking a break on this uneventful night. I was extremely grateful Gavin’s arm was his only injury. It could have been so much worse. My thoughts rolled on as I dropped my gaze to the floor, wondering how Dad was going to react and admiring how kind Ben had been to Gavin despite Gavin wrecking his bike. Then I thought of Ryan and how quickly he’d disappeared. He was standing next to me when Gavin crashed. After that, he was gone. He obviously didn’t care enough to stick around.
I looked back to the door, locking eyes with the last person I’d expected, or wanted to see. Mom. Dropping the clipboard in the next seat, I jumped up and darted over to the sliding doors.
She shifted her weight back and forth as she stood outside, watching me stalk toward her. Her appearance was neater than last week. She wore a double-breasted wool coat with an ordinary pair of jeans and her chocolate hair was stacked in a clean knot above her head.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, keeping my voice as calm as possible as I stepped through the sliding doors. The EMTs were still talking behind the rear of the ambulance, in full view.
“How’s Gavin? Has he been seen yet?” she asked, looking through the doors behind me.
“How Gavin is stopped being your business the moment you chose a life of bumps and lines over bumps and bruises.” I walked farther away from the doors and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, fidgeting with Ben’s keys and my wallet to expel some anger.
“I just wanted to make sure he was okay. That’s not asking too much, is it?” Her voice was calm, flashing me back to the times that same voice read gentle words at bedtime and soothed me when I’d had the flu.
“Yes, it is. You think can come back into our lives and everything you did is just going to wash away? Like water under the bridge? Well, the bridge is gone. You blew that bitch up when you walked out the front door.”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I know what I did was wrong, Lila. I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t. I have a lot of regrets and if I could go back and change things I would, but—”
“You can’t,” I spat.
“But, I will do anything to change for the future. I’ve been clean for fifty-eight days,” she said, looking anywhere but at me. “I found a NA group close to town. I just got a job and a place out here, and—”
“Well, congratulations on your successful future.” For the briefest of moments, I shuddered at my own hateful words. But I stifled it quickly and scolded myself for having a damn heart. It made me think of Janine, someone who died helping other people, only to be deemed crazy by her own niece. “It’s too bad crazy Aunt Janine isn’t alive to see your accomplishments. Do you think she’d be proud of you?”
Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she considered my statement.
With no response, I pressed on. “I’m just considering how much she helped other people, including you, and yet you still called her crazy. I wonder what she’d think of you now. I wonder how much she thought of you before she lost her mind.”
Mom cleared her throat. “There are some things you don’t know, Lila. There are reasons I chose to stay away.”
“And I’m sure that all makes as much sense as the many reasons you chose to snort her money. I hate to think about how much she left you even though you weren’t there for her in the end. You left her to be taken care of by her employees!” I yelled, drawing brief glances from the EMTs. “Is that why you’re back now, if not for more money or to fight me for her company? Are you afraid you’ll face the same fate as her? Alone in the end?”
She nodded a tiny bit and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she stared directly into mine. “I know that’s how I may end up, but I’m more worried that someone I love will instead.”
“Well, we’re not alone. Dad even has a girlfriend.” Not knowing who was inconsequential. And maybe it was mean to throw in her face, but it was nothing compared to what she’d put us through.
She looked down at her feet. “I deserve it all. I know that. I’m glad you’re all doing well,” she uttered before her eyes met mine again. “You are doing well, right? Your dad mentioned you’ve been having headaches—”
“I’m just peachy,” I snapped. “Now I think I should get back inside to see—”
“LJ,” Dad said, stepping off the sidewalk behind us. His hair was disheveled like he’d been running nervous fingers through it all night. “I drove as fast as I could. How’s he doing?”
“They haven’t seen him yet. You have to fill out the rest of the papers,” I admitted, turning my back on Mom and walking closer to him.
“Rina,” Dad acknowledged her.
“Carson. Thanks for telling me,” she replied, following behind me.
“You told her to come?” I asked, nearly choking on the words.
Dad glanced around. “We’ll talk about this later.” I glared at him. He scrunched his eyebrows, creasing the age lines in his forehead deeply. “She was already on the phone with me when Gavin called. I told her because she has a right to know.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“We aren’t doing this here,” he said sternly. “If you can’t keep this in check for one night, you should go home. I’ll take care of Gavin.”
“Wow!” I scoffed. “I’m so glad this parenting thing is suddenly convenient for both of you. That’s fantastic!” I tore past them into the waiting room, met by Gavin’s shocked face. “I’m sorry, Gav. I have to get out of here. See you at home.”
He didn’t respond, which I was glad for because I wasn’t waiting to listen. My boots squeaked my flustered movements on the waxed linoleum as I moved back to the door. After brushing past Dad without a word, I shoulder checked Mom then ran outside to the Cuda.
The phone’s screen timed out for what felt like the thousandth time, leaving me to stare at my own miserable reflection again. After a sluggish second, I tipped the latest bottle to my lips and poured a quarter of the cool beer down my numb throat. Everythi
ng was numb now. Except my heart. Is it ironic that it’s the only thing I ever really wanted to numb?
I rested the bottle beside my hip on the bed and let my eyes settle straight ahead, looking between my bent knees at the heavy bag. It beckoned me to hit it again. That time had passed, though. I went at it for a while after the race, but my thirst won out in the end. And now I don’t even want to move.
A rumbling noise outside caught my attention. Was it the Cuda? Whatever it was, it didn’t last. With my bare back propped against the cool concrete wall, I listened more intently, only hearing the hushed noises of the basement. The refrigerator’s hum was the most prominent and it mirrored the hum of alcohol tranquilizing my body. I could also hear a few crickets chirping. I supposed they were grateful that I’d unscrewed all but one of the basement’s blinding light bulbs. But none of that was what I’d been waiting to hear.
I looked at the phone in my other hand and swiped the screen with my thumb. As soon as the picture appeared, I got lost in it again. Her eyes were closed, the tips of her lashes pointing up in a soft curl. Those perfect lips were open, welcoming me. I could almost feel her breath on my skin, taste her tongue as it greeted mine. It was one of the shots I’d taken after the party, afraid of everything she might forget. I never wanted to forget either.
It’d been a couple hours and she still hadn’t called. I was hoping she would have texted to let me know if Gavin was okay. Honestly, he was the last person I would’ve pegged to get hurt tonight. My bet for that prize always went to Spaz. I also wanted to know if LJ was okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have let her drive so upset. Maybe I should’ve gone with her. I wanted to be there for her, yet I hesitated because I was still afraid of pushing her away. She needed time, I knew. Unfortunately, I also knew, time was something she no longer had.
Just like most of tonight, this whole week had been silent. It hurt worse than any words could. At least if someone yelled at you, you knew they felt something. My dad used to yell. And he drank. I tipped my bottle back again, taking a few more long gulps as I thought of his reasons. He was trying to numb his heart, too, especially after he’d lost my mother. Like father, like son in that aspect alone. My mother was different. She was the quiet one. Her silence hurt me more than his fist or screams ever could. No words, no care.
Did LJ care anymore?
The screen timed out, hiding the picture from me once again. I took another long drink, finishing the bottle.
“Shit!” I screamed and chucked the bottle across the room. Even though I didn’t see it shatter, I heard the glass smash against the wall. Splinters scattered in all directions, cascading to the ground, echoing little pin drops around the basement.
“Shit,” I muttered then let out a long breath.
How was I supposed to help her if she didn’t want anything to do with me? The thought of her granting wishes, knowing what could happen… It made me want to hurt someone and there was no one to hurt. There was no bad guy, just the well.
I shifted my bare feet beneath me and stood with a wobble as more effects of the alcohol rushed my brain. When I got closer to where I’d thrown the bottle, I saw the splinters twinkling like a constellation of glass stars. The dim light from the single bulb hit them perfectly. And when I took another step, they reminded me of diamonds. I pictured LJ’s face and wondered if she would think the same thing if she were here to see them. I didn’t even know how she reacted to diamonds. How would she react to one on her ring finger?
I grunted, irritated by my thoughts. I was unraveling and I wasn’t sure how to stop. The hum of the refrigerator beside me brought my mind back to reality. Before I searched for the dustpan, I grabbed another beer from the fridge and downed half.
When I finished cleaning up the diamonds, I heard a clicking sound from somewhere across the room. I froze. It didn’t come from upstairs. Pop wasn’t home yet. I strained my ears. Not hearing anything for a few moments, I turned my attention to the floor again, searching for more glass.
Click.
Squeak.
I knew it was her. It couldn’t be anyone else, yet I still had a hard time swallowing that she would use the tunnel. The door separating the storage and workout areas opened so slowly that I squinted and shook my head to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.
She held her phone out, shining its light ahead of her. Her movements were careful as she navigated past the door and over the workout mat. She finally looked up, noticing the single light bulb. Her head shifted and her eyes were finally on me. A gasp pulled through her lips. “Ben?” she whispered. “You scared me. I thought you’d be in your room.”
“So you decided to drop by?” It came out harsher than I’d intended, but I wouldn’t apologize for it. Right now, I wouldn’t go to her house without her permission so why would she come to mine? Does she think she has the right and I don’t? I dumped the remaining diamonds in the trash and took another swig of beer, knowing I’d let her do whatever she wanted, even play me with trivial double standards.
“I, uh…” she paused as she turned off her phone and shoved it in her jacket pocket. “Your keys.” The same hand fished around, removed the Cuda’s keys, and held them out. “I’m sorry if I intruded.”
I stumbled toward her, also worse than intended. Real smooth. “How is he?” I asked. I was about to take the keys when a sharp pain sliced through my foot. “Ah, shit!” I said, lifting my foot off the ground so fast I almost fell over.
LJ lunged forward to grab my arm. She was the balance I needed. In every way. I glanced at her sideways as she held my arm and studied my foot. Her almond smell engulfed me, forcing my eyes closed, making me sway even more.
“Here,” she said, coaxing me toward the bed. “Sit. Is it glass?” she asked, helping me onto the bed and dropping my keys beside me.
“Diamonds,” I replied with a small grin.
She squatted in front of me to look at my foot, but glanced up to me with a knit in her brow. The basement’s light shone behind her head, creating a glow on her hair like a halo.
My angel.
She let her jacket fall from her shoulders and tossed it on the edge of the bed. “Is Pop home?” she asked, using my name for him. I liked that.
I shook my head and she jogged up the stairs.
She returned pretty fast, or at least it seemed that way. Her hands glided over my foot and I let my eyelids fall again, this time to take in all of her touch. I tightened my hand around my beer and took another drink, not registering any pain, only pleasure. A liquid ran over my foot, followed by a soft cloth, and then pressure as she wrapped my sole with tape.
“It’s not bad,” she said, setting my foot down. “Ben?”
“Yeah,” I asked, opening my eyes a sliver.
She was staring at me from a standing position now, serious and concerned. “Why are you doing this?”
Drinking? Wasn’t it obvious enough? I missed her. God, I missed her. And I was sorry. So unbelievably sorry. But instead of spewing all of that, I chose to ignore the question and ask my own. “How’s Gavin?”
She fidgeted with her fingers nervously. “I’m not sure. I left when my dad got there. He’ll probably need a cast, though. He wasn’t moving it much.”
“You didn’t have to bring the Cuda back so early. It could’ve waited until tomorrow,” I said. “Was it okay to drive?”
Her eyes flashed around the room and I took the time to look her over. Her hair was the perfect amount of messy, scrunched in soft black tangles, exactly like it looked after sex. Every curve of her body was hugged, either by her long-sleeve thermal or her snug jeans. An ache ripped through my body, hollow and cold, craving the fire from her touch.
“Yeah, it was fine. Thank you for letting me use it.”
“No problem. Seriously, though, you can go back to the hospital if you’re worried. I don’t need the car,” I stated, noticing how anxious she looked. I hated seeing her worried.
A quiet sob triggered me to open my eyes fully. One
of her hands covered her face while her body trembled lightly. I sat up, set my beer on the floor, and reached for her other hand, grazing her fingers before carefully hooking them. I tugged until she sat down beside me.
“My mom was there. My dad told her to come,” she said with a strained voice. I slid my arm over her shoulder, wanting to comfort her any way I could. “I don’t think he even okayed it with Gavin first.”
I sighed, heavily. I understood why she was upset. She had every reason to hate her mom. But the fact that her mom even showed up to make sure Gavin was okay sounded more hopeful than harmful. I couldn’t express that to her right now, though. She needed my shoulder. And I’d give her that, along with everything else in the world.
I rubbed my hand down her back as her trembles gradually disappeared. She wiped her tears roughly away with both hands. “I’m sorry, Ben. I shouldn’t be bothering you with all of this. I just…” she trailed off, letting the rest of the words dissolve into a long exhale.
“You aren’t bothering me. I’m here. You know I always will be,” I replied. I took a deep breath, assaulted with her sweet scent again. All my nerves surged at the smell, like an LJ adrenaline shot. I turned my face to her, staring into her hair, wanting to bury my face in it and feel every part of her neck with my lips.
She turned her face to me. “Why didn’t you come with me tonight?” she whispered, reaching to my leg and covering my hand with hers. Her fingers moved weakly over my knuckles and spread between them.
“I didn’t think you wanted me to,” I admitted, finally met by her gorgeous eyes.
“I thought you’d want to be there for Gavin.”
Of course, that’s what she meant. And yet her eyes were telling me so much more. They searched me with every bit of the same need I felt for her. I blinked long and hard then looked at her again, not fully trusting my own sight. The alcohol still had my mind swimming in a fog that had morphed from pain to desire in a few short seconds.
