Remember

by Patricia Shanae Smith

  “Ethan is hurt,” I mumbled to myself. “What happened? Where’s my dad? Oh my God, I need my dad.” My heart was pounding again. I ran over to the window and my hands slapped against it. I just wanted it to break and escape from here. My hands quickly turned into fists. I kept punching and punching. It wasn’t breaking, but my hands started bleeding. My bloody hands started my memories flowing.

  I didn’t want to think about any of this. I turned around.

  “How did my dad get home from the hospital?”

  The memories were hurting. I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed.

  Everything was so confusing.

  Two security guards and two nurses came in with a first-aid kit.

  “You want to know…” She stood up.

  I calmed down and glared at Elizabeth.

  The security guards went to ask her something. She nodded. The nurses were fixing my hands. “We’re fine. I got this.” She was determined. She wanted information. She wasn’t going to let me see my dad until she got it.

  I still didn’t understand.

  Five Years Ago

  I wish I could remember the week after I ran away from Susan’s. I don’t. I only remember crying, sleeping in Piper’s room, sleeping in my parents’ room. I remember not touching a thing. I remember writing the letters. I wrote my mom dozens of letters, wrote Piper dozens of letters. They’re all in boxes in my room. I haven’t looked at them since.

  It was Sunday the twelfth, the best day of my life followed by the worst week of my life. I heard the door screech open. For a second, I thought they were all back. Piper screaming, telling me about the play. Mom fighting with Dad. Instead, it was Grandma with a bunch of suitcases and Dad right behind her.

  “Daddy.” I ran up to him and I really didn’t think I would ever let go.

  “Relax. Relax. I’m staying here or you’re coming with me,” my grandma said.

  “What?” No. I just got my dad back and she was trying to take either him or me away. “I want to stay here.”

  Ingrid, our neighbor, was walking past the front of our house, looked over at us and kept walking. I was surprised she didn’t come to hug dad or at least say hello.

  “You can’t, Portia. Look at me.” Grandma looked out of it. She usually had her hair done up with curls and makeup. Instead she had a wrap around her hair, and it looked like she was wearing her pajamas with barely any makeup. I could tell she hadn’t been able to stop crying. She kept looking at me like I was supposed to do something or was doing something wrong. Dad hated being around Grandma. She never let him be himself, always nagging. She was worse than Mom. I had to make a decision for my dad—not just me. We had lost our family. He was barely standing.

  I had to do what I had to do.

  “Grandma. Go home. I’m going to take care of Dad by myself. We need this time alone. We need to deal with this alone.”

  “Since when do you talk?” she asked.

  Was she really doing this right now?

  “Since my fucking family just died in a fucking car accident. If you want to check on Daddy here and there, that’s fine, but leave us alone.” He’d had already settled in on the couch. I ran up to him. He was so weak and broken. I could tell he didn’t want to be alive. I could see the guilt in his eyes.

  For months, I cried in his arms. For months, I took care of him.

  One day, when I was sleeping, I heard him say, “I can walk…Portia…I can walk.”

  I thought it was in my dream. I turned over. “Dad. What’s happening? Are you okay?” I woke up scared.

  “I’m great, baby. I feel fine.” I looked at him and there was color in his face again. It was like nothing had happened. He looked happy. It was strange, but I didn’t want to question it.

  “Oh my God, I thought you were never going to be able to stand ever again!” He danced around. “Stop. You still have to be careful.”

  “Want me to make you breakfast?”

  I nodded as I stared at him as he legitimately hopped his way to the kitchen. I laughed, not being able to believe my eyes.

  “It’s time for me to start taking care of you,” he said.

  Everything went back to normal, except Mom and Pipes never came home.

  We adjusted.

  Three Years Ago

  Ethan and I were kissing on my bed. When he kissed me, everything in the world felt like it was right where it was supposed to be. The sun was in the sky. The grass was green, the trash in the trashcan. Piper was in the other room, Dad and Mom were sleeping. We were here. Just us, in the moment. I climbed on top of him.

  “Whoa, whoa, you always do this.”

  “Always do what?” I got up to take a breath.

  “Making out is cool and all, and I love kissing, but sometimes you make it hard for me.”

  “It’s hard for you to kiss me?”

  “It’s hard for me to stop myself from wanting you…” He grabbed my butt and pushed me further into him and kissed my chest over and over again. I didn’t know what he wanted, so I continued kissing his neck.

  “You have to stop. I want you so bad, Portia Willows.”

  “I don’t understand. You have me. Aren’t we girlfriend and boyfriend?”

  “You want to have sex again?” He pressed his lips together.

  “Okay…” I grabbed his chin and kissed him with my eyes open.

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded and he kissed me while lifting me up and flipping me over. My heart was beating hard. I didn’t know what to do; I was a little scared. It had hurt the first time. I didn’t know what the second time would be like.

  “Relax. Okay? This will only work if you relax.”

  “If I want you to stop, will you?”

  “Of course, babe. Who do you think I am?” He giggled as he slowly took off my underwear. It didn’t occur to me that we didn’t wear condoms. I didn’t have any anyway. I didn’t really care.

  Why did I not care?

  He didn’t leave right away this time. I lit a cigarette outside while he got us beers.

  “What took you so long?”

  “I had to pee,” he said as he handed me one.

  “Was I better?”

  “You were great the first time. You were great the second time. You will be great the third time,” he said.

  “How often do couples have sex?”

  “As often as they want to.”

  “How much do you want to?”

  He shrugged while chugging his beer. “Whenever you feel like it, will you tell me?”

  “A guy thinks about sex every seven seconds,” he said.

  My mouth dropped. He started laughing. The first thing I thought about was that my dad was thinking about sex every seven seconds.

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Babe. I’m not asking to have sex with you every seven seconds. I don’t even think that I can do that.”

  “My dad…” I started gagging.

  “Oh. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Older males think about it every seven years,” he said, and this time I giggled.

  “That makes sense. Mom died two years ago. They were definitely not having sex.”

  “How do you feel?” He rubbed my forehead.

  “About what?”

  “You know...everything…life. School? Finals? Christmas?”

  I shrugged. “I’m hungry…that’s how I feel.”

  “Do you want to go out to eat?”

  “You know what, I do. As long as I bring home food for my dad.”

  “Yes. Yes! I’ll go get ready and I’m buying.” He was excited. I’d definitely caught him by surprise. He jumped up like a little kid who was just told he was going to Disneyland. He kissed me on the cheek and ran across the street. “Love you,” he called out.

  Wait. Did he just say he loved me?

  I went inside and sat on the couch. I couldn’t b
elieve it. I just sat there. Ethan Torke just said he loved me. Someone loved me. I did it. I was living a normal life. How did I do this without Piper? I looked up. Did you hear that? I tried to keep myself from smiling. I had to tell Dad. He was going to be so happy for me. Or at least I thought he would be.

  “Dad? Dad?” My dad wasn’t in the house. It was the strangest thing. Both televisions were on, the one in the living room and the one in his room. I hated when he did that. I looked everywhere for him. My heart began to skip a beat. I paused. Something was off. I put my hand to my chest. A sudden rush of fear ran through my body.

  “Dad!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “Out back,” I heard him call.

  I took a deep breath. That was weird.

  He was in the backyard staring at the trees.

  “Dad?” I walked up behind him.

  “Come here…”

  I stood next to him and he put his arm on my shoulder. He was just literally staring at the trees. I stared up at them as well and then stared back at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “When your mother and I first bought this house and we realized we were going to raise you and Piper here, we were standing right here. Looking at the trees. Twenty-five years and those trees are exactly the same.”

  I looked harder at the trees, then looked over to the right to see if there was still a pink teddy bear dangling from the phone line.

  “Oh my God.” It was there. The phone line was lower than I remembered. I swear the teddy bear was on a different line than when I was a kid.

  “Huh?”

  “Is that the same teddy bear from my fifth-grade graduation?”

  Dad slowly shook his head like he had no idea what I was talking about.

  “No…remember? I cried for hours. I don’t remember why exactly, probably because some girls were being mean to me, but I do remember looking up over there and only seeing this pink teddy bear. It was perfect. That teddy bear made me stop crying.”

  “These trees made me stop crying.”

  “We should hang out here more often, then.”

  “Want to go camping again?”

  “Sure…but first, Ethan is taking me out to dinner. He’s buying, so I’ll bring you home a bunch of food.”

  “What time are you going to be home?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. I’m trying something new.”

  “Be careful, Portia,” he said as he walked inside, rolling his eyes.

  “Dad, don’t be like that. I’m happy. He loves me.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “That’s why I’m bringing you home food and we can eat in the backyard tonight with the pink teddy bear and the trees,” I said, and kissed him on the forehead.

  “I love you,” I said.

  He didn’t say anything. Lately, it felt like every conversation we had ended in a fight or me acting like my mother.

  Ethan took me to this pizza café. He promised it wasn’t going to be busy. He held my hand tight as we were about to walk into the restaurant. I kept anticipating the worst and took deep, steady breaths.

  I knew I could do this. I just really didn’t want to.

  Before he opened the door, he looked at me and I nodded. I had this.

  The hostess was really short. She smiled at both of us and said, “Two?”

  I smiled and nodded.

  Ethan was right behind me. “Yes,” he said.

  I looked at every table in the restaurant. Everyone was in their own conversation. We passed by five tables. Two were families and three were couples. No one really looked up at us except for the children. As soon as I sat down in the chair, I felt a sense of relief.

  “I think I can order my own food but I would just prefer if you did.”

  “I got you, babe.”

  “Can we talk about something?”

  “What?”

  You said you loved me about an hour ago.

  Ethan kept looking at the menu. Was that what I was supposed to be doing? I grabbed the menu and tried to fit in with the crowd. He laughed.

  “What?”

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  Oh, yeah.

  “I’m fucking starving.” I gasped. “I just cussed out loud.”

  “No one heard you. No one can hear anything we’re saying. What did you want to talk about?”

  People were on their phones, laughing, touching, or scarfing down their food. The staff was moving fast—some with food, some with plates. I couldn’t hear anyone’s conversations, just noise and some music, but mainly just noise. It was the strangest thing. I thought public life was exactly like high school, but this wasn’t high school. This was adult high school that only had lunch period.

  “I’m sorry. I just got anxious all of a sudden.”

  “Are you still hungry?”

  The waiter came over. I nodded and Ethan started to order. I couldn’t help but stare at him in awe. Why couldn’t this man have entered my life four years ago? Piper would have loved him. Mom would have invited him over for dinner. Dad would have just dealt with it, and he wouldn’t be so obsessed with it.

  I wanted to continue hanging out with Ethan tonight. I knew I’d promised my dad, but there was something about Ethan that made me want to be around him all the time. What did that even mean? Did I love Ethan more than I loved my dad? I knew that couldn’t be, but it seemed like it in my head.

  We never ended up talking about the fact that he said he loved me.

  Chapter 10

  Five Years Ago

  “Describe your perfect man.”

  It was one in the morning. Piper had convinced me to stay up late with her to wait for this guy to text her back. We were in my room since Mom never checked my room late at night. We used my laptop as light and had our schoolbooks on the bed so just in case we got caught we could say we were studying. Piper had a lot of silly plans I didn’t understand. She always talked too fast and whenever I asked her to explain, I always regretted it. I decided to just wait up with her—no questions asked.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m falling asleep and I need you to keep me up.”

  “Piper. Go to sleep. He’s most likely ninety-nine percent sleeping, too. I have to wake up at six.”

  “It’s Saturday. What the hell are you doing tomorrow at six in the morning?”

  “A study session with some AP kids from school.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Does to me and them. Most of those kids have a really strict schedule. Six in the morning is the only time all ten of us can study together…and yes, the libraries are open.”

  “Okay, hold on, you can hang out with AP kids?”

  “It took some getting used to, but at six in the morning everything is calm enough so my anxiety levels out a little bit. But that’s the only time I see them. We aren’t friends or anything.”

  “Okay, whatever. Just tell me your dream man.”

  “Fine. Mysterious. Southern. I don’t know. I want him to be quiet like me but not as bad as me, so he’s able to talk for me. On dates and stuff, you know. Understanding, open-minded, smart, or at least tries really hard to be.”

  “Boring.”

  “He doesn’t have to be boring.”

  “No. I mean what does he look like—white, black, Hispanic, short, tall, small, or big, you know, smooth, sexy lips or hard, thin lips.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t care about that stuff. I care about their personality. You should too, Piper. This guy is a dick. He told you he was going to text you tonight but he didn’t.” I knew that boy wasn’t going to text her tonight. It was one in the morning and they were fourteen years old. I was sixteen, and I would be sleeping if I didn’t have an obsessive little sister. I had upset her. She looked down at her phone and sighed.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t need him.” I put my hand on her s
houlder.

  “I do. He’s my dream man.”

  “Jesus. Piper. You’re way too young for that.”

  “I wish I was more like you and didn’t care about this stuff.”

  If she only knew how many nights I stayed up until one in the morning thinking about how I wished I was more like her.

  When I got back from my study session the next morning, Dad was making breakfast. I wondered if Piper had ever gotten the text. Her silence at the table seemed to answer.

  “So, what’s everyone doing today?” Dad asked, kissing us both on the heads as he served us pancakes. “Wheat for you,” he said as he gave me mine.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Since when the hell did you start eating wheat pancakes? You don’t even eat wheat bread,” Mom snapped. She wasn’t staying for breakfast.

  I shrugged.

  Dad sat in between us with his coffee.

  “Are you joining us?” Dad looked up at Mom.

  “Someone in this house has to be productive,” she retorted. Mom never worked on Saturdays but she was always busy doing who knows what.

  “Someone in this house has to spend quality time with us before we all turn to shit,” Piper said as she shoved pancakes in her mouth.

  “Excuse me? You’re going to let your daughter talk to her mother like that?” Mom glared at Dad.

  “She wasn’t talking to you,” I said while I looked at Dad, whose nose was buried in his coffee, eyes drifting to find a distraction.

  “Now she talks, disrespecting her own mother,” Mom said getting in my face.

  “Mom, give it a break. We all love you. Go do whatever it is you have to do.”

  “Yeah, Carol, just go. I’ll take them wherever they need to go today…like I always do.”

  She was shocked. She loudly gathered all of her stuff together and then stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The three of us exchanged glances.

  “Okay…your mother acts like this every day. What’s going on with you two? Piper, I expect this out of you, but you, Portia?”

  “I didn’t go to sleep until four in the morning,” Piper said, throwing her head down on the table.