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Life Happens on the Stairs

Page 3

by Amy J. Markstahler


  I giggled, and started to reach for the handle. He caught my hand to stop me.

  “I’ll get it,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  Within minutes, we were headed back upstairs.

  “Are you home for the summer?” he asked.

  “No. I live outside Morris Chapel.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’ll be eighteen in November. It’s my senior year.”

  “Oh. You seem older than that,” he said. “So, you’ll graduate in May?”

  “No. December, if everything goes right. Are you in Savannah long?”

  “Six weeks.” He pulled in a heavy breath and stepped in the foyer. “Six, long-ass weeks.”

  The tone in his voice took me off guard. I shut the basement door, certain I should leave the subject alone. He set down the steamer and gave a me a warm smile.

  “Any chance you like to jog?” he asked.

  “I’ve been known to run, but I rarely jog.”

  “You should try it.”

  “Do you run a lot?”

  “Yeah, close to twenty miles a day.”

  “Seriously?” I exaggerated my tone. “Why?”

  “I, um... run cross country for Vanderbilt University, so I train a lot.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Elsie!” Mom’s voice echoed from upstairs.

  My cheeks burned. Her bellow reminded me of the old milk commercials Dad always teased me about when Elsie the Cow was called home.

  “I gotta go.”

  “Sounds like it,” Tyler said with a smile. “You want me to carry that upstairs for you?”

  “No, thank you. I can take it from here.”

  “I’ll be at Shiloh Park around seven. You’re welcome to join me.”

  I cringed. “Seven in the morning?”

  “You’re lucky. I usually go at five. It’s not as hot then. Have you been out to Shiloh?”

  “Sure. Dad loves Civil War stuff. It’s a beautiful park, but... ”

  I didn’t know how to answer. When I “ran” it was out of fear... not exercise. But an offer to hang out was tempting. He flashed a flirty grin, almost as if he liked the challenge that I might say no.

  “Come on... You know you wanna meet me. Besides, I’d like to figure out where this Yankee accent I’m hearin’ comes from.”

  “Yankee?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, okay. You wanna play that way, huh? I can roll with that.” Pleading with his eyes, he said, “Meet me, please.”

  My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I wanted to say yes. I had to say yes.

  “I... I’ll try.”

  “Great! I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Where in the park? That place is huge.”

  “Oh, yeah. Just follow Confederate Road. I’ll be outside my car. You won’t miss me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you have a cell number, just in case?”

  I frowned. “No. I don’t have one yet.”

  “That sucks. Oh well. Hope to see you tomorrow.”

  I hurried up the steps with the steamer before Mom yelled my name again. What did I just agree to? I hated jogging and sweating. Hell... exercise, in general. And he was a college athlete. I’d make a total ass of myself within minutes.

  When I stepped inside Mrs. Vaughn’s room, Mom was wiping the baseboard.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “Sorry.” I set down the steamer. “I ran into Tyler downstairs.”

  “Oh, I forgot he was back for the summer. He was the one who called the house when your dad had the seizure. Thank God I answered the phone.”

  “Yeah, he helped us out. He was amazing, actually.”

  “Really?” Her shoulders slumped. “That’s nice of him and all, but it kind of sucks.”

  “What’s the big deal?”

  “I haven’t told Mrs. Vaughn about your dad.”

  “Why?”

  Mom could be ridiculously private sometimes. I didn’t understand why she wanted to carry everything by herself. Stubborn German was the only thing that came to mind.

  “It’s none of her business,” she said. “Besides, she doesn’t care. I keep my life private, and she likes it that way.”

  “Do you think Tyler will say something?”

  “I hope not. He’s pretty reserved for the most part.”

  I grabbed a rag and joined her on the floor. “He didn’t seem very reserved to me.”

  “What does that mean?” she snapped.

  I flinched. “Nothing. Wow. You need some sleep, Mom.”

  “Sorry. I really want to get to the hospital. Finish wiping these baseboards and I’ll start steaming the drapes.”

  After three hours of cleaning a room that was already clean, we were finishing the windows when Mom’s cell phone rang.

  “Hello... yes, this is she... okay... Thank you.” She slapped the phone shut.

  “Who was that?”

  “The nurse. Dr. Wood’s doing his rounds soon, and he wants to talk to me.”

  Within minutes, we were putting the furniture back, and hurried out of the house.

  Driving across town, her knuckles bled white from gripping the steering wheel.

  “What did you and Tyler talk about?” she asked out of nowhere.

  “Nothing, really. He helped me get the steamer.”

  After her reaction in the bedroom over Tyler being a good Samaritan, I decided to wait to tell her about his invitation.

  “He’s a nice kid.”

  “Where’s he from, anyway?”

  “Memphis area. Comes here for five or six weeks every summer.”

  “He didn’t seem too thrilled about it.”

  “Would you be? You’ve met his grandmother.”

  “She’s terrible, isn’t she?”

  Mom shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about her. We need the money.”

  I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t let it go.

  “Why is she so rich?”

  “They’re old money from logging the forests. They owned the paper mill for years. I think her son’s still an executive of some sort, but after Mr. Vaughn died, they sold the business to a subsidiary company. I can’t imagine what she’s worth now.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Who? Her son?”

  “No. Tyler.”

  “I’m not sure... around your age.” She turned onto Main Street, then she gave me a hard glance. “I know he’s a handsome boy. But he’s off limits. We’re the staff and nothing more.”

  “Jeez, Mom. All I asked was how old he is.”

  “And where he lives... and why they’re so rich.”

  I sat silent.

  “You have to understand how important this job is.”

  “I do, but would she really fire you over a boy?”

  “He’s not a boy. He’s her grandson. I’m serious, Elsie. You have no idea how protective she is. I need this job, especially now.”

  “Okay... I get it.”

  Crap. I was screwed. If I meet Tyler in the morning, I’d have to lie to her. And I sucked at lying. Backing out wasn’t an option, though. I wanted to go, but telling the truth wasn’t an option either. She’d just given me the answer to that route. I took a deep breath. No matter... It wasn’t a big deal. We were only going jogging. I’d just change a few minor details, like name and gender.

  Mom parked the truck and turned in the seat. She had something else to tell me, something I didn’t want to hear. God, please don’t let it be about Dad.

  “I hate to ask this of you,” she said. “But I need you to start cleaning a few houses by yourself.” I let out a huff and slumped in the seat. She held up her hands. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be in two places at once. It’ll only be Mrs. Baltic and Mr. Smith.”

  “Mom—”

  “Mom, what?” Her tone was calm but firm. “I need your help, Elizabeth.”

  “I know, but I hat
e Jack Smith. He’s a sleazebag who reminds me of Jabba the Hutt.”

  She pushed back a smile. “He’s not that bad.”

  “Yes, he is,” I said in a dry tone. “When?”

  “Every week. Mrs. Baltic’s house is easy. All she really wants is someone to talk to. Jack goes to breakfast most mornings. If you’re there by nine, you’ll be done before he gets back.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “With your dad. Where do you think?”

  I wanted to help her, but cleaning houses wasn’t my gig. Why couldn’t I go to the hospital and sit with Dad while she worked? A pain of guilt stabbed my stomach. I had to think about both of them. What if Dad didn’t make it? If he didn’t, I’d be the only person Mom could rely on.

  I looked into her desperate, deep-blue eyes.

  “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 4

  Mom dozed off while we were sitting in the waiting room. The doctor was attending to Dad, and the nurse wouldn’t let us go in. I grabbed a magazine and started flipping through the gossip articles. Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Wood appeared. I nudged Mom.

  She woke, and sat up. “Dr. Wood?”

  He pulled up a chair next to her. I sensed he had bad news by the way he hesitated. “I’ve upgraded Brandon to critical condition,” he said. “I’m afraid Brandon’s still taking on fluid. Some fluid is normal, but this isn’t what we wanted.”

  Mom pressed her hand to her lips.

  “Let’s see what the next few days bring,” he said. “I’ve contacted the cancer center in Nashville. The doctors there think they can help. If I see some improvement in the next twenty-four hours, I’ll take him off the meds, and hopefully he’ll wake up.”

  “Okay.”

  “You can see him soon. Do you have any questions?”

  “I have a thousand questions,” Mom said.

  “I understand. I’ve already contacted Hospice. If you go to the second floor, they’ll be happy to go over everything with you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He stood. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  As Dr. Wood walked out, my brother, Mark, stepped inside the waiting room.

  I froze. Mark looked so much like Dad it took me a second to realize who he was. Six-foot-tall, thick blond hair... he’d gained a few pounds but he was still lean and lanky.

  Instantly, I began to shake. I had no idea what to say to him. He moved across the room, tense-lipped, nose flared.

  “Here we go,” Mom muttered.

  She pushed out of the chair and held out her arms. Mark’s shoulders stiffened, then he leaned in for a brief hug. She tried to lovingly touch his face. An immediate flinch, his eyes filled with tears, before he looked away like he was ashamed.

  I swallowed the tight lump in my throat. Mom stepped back, disappointment written all over her face. I hated the tension between them. Mark had built a wall as thick as East Berlin, and it hadn’t been torn down. The fortress helped him cope. Brick by brick, he had stacked his defense ever since we moved to Tennessee. Dad had chosen to scrape by, farming peppers. Mark couldn’t understand why we’d move away from a life of privilege offered by Mom’s parents. Of course, Mom took it personally. She’d built her own hedge and wouldn’t admit it. Granted, I didn’t have to climb her thorny wall, but Mark did. Her inability to relate to my brother had resulted in a war of wills. I’d learned to accept Mark for who he was. At least, until the accident.

  While we waited out the silence, memories of falling down the ravine flashed in my mind. The pain in my shoulder and arm. My throbbing head. He’d ditched me, and I’d never forgive him for it. He’d chosen drugs over all of us. Anger welled inside of me at the memory.

  He sniffled and wiped his face, then he made eye contact with me. Neither of us smiled or spoke.

  Asshole.

  “How was the drive?” Mom asked.

  “Hot. Grandpa’s car doesn’t have air conditioning.”

  “Did you stop by the house?”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna head home. I’m beat.”

  “But you just got here.”

  “Mom,” his tone was laced with attitude already. “I just drove seven hours.”

  “Well. I think you should at least see him before you go.”

  “Fine.”

  Mom looked hurt.

  I felt her defenses like we were attached by wire. The conversation would only escalate if someone didn’t buffer.

  “Are you staying at the hospital tonight?” I asked Mom.

  “I’d planned on it.”

  Mark glanced from her to the floor.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll go see Dad, and then Mark can take me home.”

  “Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll wait here.”

  Walking down the ICU hallway, I didn’t look to the right or the left. Mark’s head bobbed from side to side, huffing at the sight of each room we passed.

  “Shit... ” he breathed out. “This is fuckin’ nuts.”

  “Wait until you see Dad,” I said, dryly.

  “Whatever, Elsie.”

  “Just sayin’.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “You fuck off, Mark.”

  Taking longer strides, I made a beeline for Aaron.

  He stood up from the computer desk and smiled. “Elsie. Good to see you again.”

  I forced myself to return his kind greeting. “You too, Aaron. This is my brother, Mark.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mark.”

  Mark grunted but didn’t make eye contact. His demeanor didn’t seem to faze Aaron.

  “You two can go in and see Brandon whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” Turning to Mark, I pointed at the rack. “You have to wear a gown and gloves.”

  “Great.”

  His sarcastic tone pushed my launch button.

  “You’re really pissing me off,” I quickly whispered, then stepped away.

  “What did I do?” his voice cracked.

  “Seriously?” I hissed. “You’re freakin’ rude, coming in here with a chip on your shoulder. You think Mom and I are enjoying ourselves?”

  “Whatever. I just got here. Give me a minute, okay?”

  I gritted my teeth. “No.”

  Our blue eyes locked.

  “Back off,” he growled.

  “You ditched me.”

  “You fucking ran, you little baby.”

  “Druggie.”

  “Nark.”

  “Bite my ass.”

  I snapped the glove on my hand and stomped into the room. Unable to calm down, I paced beside Dad’s bed. As if things weren’t hard enough, Mark had to come back like it was all about him. I wanted to scream. Stop. Breathe. Get it together, Elsie.

  After a few minutes, I walked out. Mark passed me, lightly side-swiping my shoulder. By the time I pulled the paper gown over my head, he’d disappeared inside Dad’s room. I tossed the garment in the trash can and went back to the waiting room.

  Mom sat alone in the massive space full of empty chairs, an uncanny metaphor to her current circumstances. I flopped in the seat next to her and went off about Mark.

  “I should’ve waited to call him,” Mom said in a weary tone.

  I’d made her feel even worse. My stomach bottomed out. “He needs to be here.”

  “I have to go talk to Hospice. Will you at least get a ride home from him?”

  “Of course.”

  She stood up. “Throw in some laundry?”

  “Sure.” I remembered I wanted to leave early in the morning. “Oh. By the way, I’m meeting Jenna in the morning to go jogging, if that’s okay.”

  “Who’s Jenna?”

  I hated lying, but I couldn’t tell her about Tyler.

  “She’s in my class. You’ve met her before.”

  That part wasn’t a lie. Technically, Mom had met Jenna. My freshman year at a football game, Mom bought a box of chocolates from Jenna for a f
undraiser.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “I’ll leave before seven.”

  “Why so early?”

  “It isn’t as hot then.”

  She smirked. “You hate exercise.”

  “Maybe we’ll just walk. I don’t know.”

  She leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I love you. I’ll be home at some point.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She waved at me as she left the room. I waved back. Guilt stabbed me. Lying wasn’t my style at all.

  Minutes later, Mark stepped into the waiting room and shrugged at me like I’d been making him wait, and then he walked out.

  On the way home, we sat in silence, refusing to be the first to forfeit. When we arrived, I went straight to my room and slammed the door. He slammed his seconds later. Flopping on my bed, I glared at the ceiling. Fuck Mark. Fuck cancer. Fuck everything. Nothing could help me. I had no one to turn to but Mom, and she didn’t need something else weighing her down. I was on my own.

  Exhausted, I turned on my side and fell asleep.

  At six the next morning, I woke to Mom shaking my shoulder. Light poured through the window, highlighting her long, blonde hair.

  “Hey, sweetie.” She sat down on the edge of my bed, holding a plastic bag in her hands. “I stopped by the store on my way home this morning and bought you a gift.”

  Snuggling my pillow, I couldn’t hide my excitement.

  She pulled out a box. “It’s a dumb phone, not a smart one, but it has unlimited text.”

  I softly clapped my hands with a cheesy smile. “Thank you.”

  “You’re going to need one when you’re cleaning. I don’t want you stuck out on the road or at a house without a way to call me.” She handed me the box. I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Please, don’t be one of those teenagers who’s always looking at a phone.”

  Ignoring the comment, I opened the box and pulled out the device.

  Chapter 5

  At six-thirty, I pulled on a pair of gym shorts, my navy Chicago Bears T-shirt, and a pair of my cleanest tennis shoes. I couldn’t wait to see Tyler, even if it required jogging.

  I grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, and hurried toward the front door. Mom had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV on.

 

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