Текст книги "Falling to Pieces"

Автор книги: Leddy Harper

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

There’d been so many times in the past when I thought I’d seen Bree in public, so as I turned the corner in the grocery store the following Sunday, I had to take a double glance at the woman in front of me. I’d been let down so many times before when it’d turn out to be someone else. However, this time, I kept waiting for the let down, for the realization that it wasn’t her…yet it never came.

Mere feet from me stood Bree, reading the back of a condiment bottle. We’d spent six months in the same town, never meeting face to face, but after finally speaking, after we’d finally acknowledged each other, it seemed fate had intervened. Fate had brought her back to me again. I had to take that as a sign.

“Do you even know how to pronounce some of the ingredients on that label?” I asked as I came up behind her, nearly whispering into her ear.

She shuddered, froze, and then placed the salad dressing bottle back in the empty spot on the shelf. She turned to face me, squaring her shoulders as if to gather her courage to face me. “No. And I don’t really care to try. I was just hoping you wouldn’t see me and would keep walking.” She didn’t allow me a chance to become offended before the corners of her lips turned up.

“Oh, it’s like that now? We can’t be friendly and say hello when we see each other?” I teased back. “Listen, I know this is awkward and weird. I mean, we had a relationship, a real relationship, and then we’ve both spent years apart without an ounce of closure. But I don’t want to avoid you in public. I don’t want to turn the other way if I happen to find myself in the same aisle as you.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she focused on the floor. “I don’t know how to act around you, Axel. I don’t know what you want me to say. We got everything out the other day. Why do we have to keep talking?” She held onto her shopping basket as if it protected her…the way I should have.

I glanced at the silver band on her finger and waited for her to turn her attention back to me. “Before we realized our feelings for each other, we were friends. Talking was never hard for us.”

“You want to be friends?”

“I want something, Bree. I know I can’t have you the way I did before, and that we can’t have that kind of relationship again…but I want something. Something to prove that what we did share wasn’t imaginary.” I wanted to smack myself for sounding so weak, so pussy-whipped. But in reality, that’s what I was.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We’ve proved that we can’t be just friends. We know all too well how destructive we are together.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it. We were never destructive together.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t change how being together nearly destroyed us both. I don’t know about you, but I can’t handle another disaster like that.” She lowered the basket, dropping it at her side. “I don’t know what you expect, Axel.”

I mentally chastised myself. What did I think she’d say? She was married, which meant I had no business in her life at all. She had a point, and even though I didn’t want to give in, I had no choice but to concede. “I get it. But knowing you’re here, seeing you out and about, makes me feel like my right arm has been cut off and dangled in front of my face.”

She licked her lips and met my eyes with her sad gaze. “I know the feeling. Which only makes it harder to talk to you and play nice. Sometimes, the best thing to do is the same thing that hurts the most.”

Heavy emotion clogged my throat. I wanted to ask her so many things, but my time was up. Our moment had passed, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I had to suck it up, pull on my big-boy pants, and accept the consequences of my actions, regardless of the regret I’d held over them.

I nodded once to her, and without a word, turned and walked away with my tail tucked tightly between my legs. The only thing that helped me remain calm was an overwhelming feeling that Fate was not done with us quite yet.

That evening, I received a phone call from the school I’d been subbing at. They had a teacher that suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized, and they needed a long-term substitute with the possibility of permanency. I accepted without hesitation.

I walked into the classroom feeling lighter, better, knowing this would be the new start I needed. And the students didn’t let me down. Teaching kindergarten wasn’t the easiest, and I knew a lot of teachers that refused to take on the challenge. I also had a lot of teachers ask me why I’d chosen primary education. I could never tell them the real reason, only that I loved kids and wanted to point them in the right direction as early as possible. It was believable, and partially the truth. I’m sure there’d be complaints had I admitted that teaching five-year-olds protected me from falling in love with a student, losing my job, and becoming an alcoholic…again. So I decided to keep that to myself.

All in all, the kids were good, very well behaved. They responded well to having a new teacher, and listened to the directions I gave without having to be reminded too many times. I’d substituted other kindergarten classes before, and sometimes had to repeat myself a lot. But not with this group of kids. It only served to fuel the positive attitude I’d taken on after my conversation with Bree in the grocery store.

I was in the midst of gathering my belongings to head home when the door to my room opened. One of the ladies from the office walked in, holding the hand of a little girl from my class. “Mr. Taylor, do you mind waiting with Ayla? Her mother didn’t come to pick her up. We’ve called her, and she’s on her way. But the office is closed and I’m the last one left. I’ve waited as long as I can. She should be here soon.”

I glanced down at the little towhead and winked. “Of course. I’ll walk with her to the front of the school and wait for her. I’m sure she’ll come there first.” I grabbed my briefcase off my desk and headed out the door with Ayla at my side.

She reached out and held my hand, startling me.

“Don’t be scared. I’m sure there’s a good reason why she hasn’t come yet. She’ll be here any minute.” We walked to the end of the hall, right in front of the main doors, and took a seat on the floor.

She sat across the hall from me, her back against the wall, and I mirrored her position so that we faced each other. I had my legs out in front of me, and she did the same. It was only my first day in the class, and it takes longer than that to know all twenty kids, but Ayla stuck out to me from the beginning. She was a very smart girl, kept to herself, and finished all her work without needing to be asked twice. Normally, it’s the kids you have to constantly get after that leave a lasting impression on you, and not always a positive one…but with Ayla, just her calm temperament and quiet voice were enough to make me remember her.

Looking at her, I noticed her blond, nearly white curls that seemed almost too big for her face. She wore a barrette that pulled them back and showed off her eyes. They were the clear color of the Caribbean ocean, aqua almost. The most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even begin to tell her heritage, though. Her skin tone was light, but not porcelain; it had a slightly darker shade. She had maybe ten freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. There was no arguing that she was a cute kid. I didn’t envy her parents at all, knowing they’d have to chase the boys away from her when she got older.

Ever since Bree, I had a hard time not taking mental notes when it came to my students. I’d find myself studying their skin, checking for bruises or warning signs of abuse—more so than any normal teacher. And especially now that I taught younger children, I felt the need to watch out for them even more. I hated how Aubrey’s mother had gotten away with it for so long, and I never wanted anyone to ever have to go through that. I also had grown a lot and matured since Bree. I knew the steps I needed to follow if I ever came across another case of abuse again.

“Does this happen a lot? How often does your mommy forget to pick you up?” I asked in a calm, curious tone, hoping to gain her trust enough for her to open up to me. No matter how old they were, I always spoke to my students as if conversing with an adult. I never babied the younger ones by using a cooing tone with them. But I knew that when gaining the trust of a young child, sometimes you needed to be more on their level. Give them comfort, and they give you their trust.

Ayla shook her head. “Papa usually picks me up on Mondays. He takes me for ice cream. He says it’s our day. He’s never forgotten before.”

I assumed she must’ve been talking about her dad. From what I’d seen, joint custody could be a bitch. Every time I encountered a situation like this, where the parents are at odds and the child ends up in the middle, forgotten at school, it makes me thankful for the parents I had and the upbringing they gave me and my sister.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. Maybe he’ll make it up to you next week. Who knows, you might get two scoops of ice cream next Monday.” I watched her impish grin take over her face, lighting up her every feature.

“And double gummy bears!”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh at her enthusiasm. “Yes. I’m sure he’ll let you have double gummy bears.” I crossed my ankles and noticed her do the same, mimicking me. “Do you prefer to go by Ayla, or McKayla? Or do you have another name you like better?”

“Mommy calls me Ayla. Papa calls me Buttercup. But you can call me whatever you want. Just don’t say my whole name, because that means I’m in trouble,” she whispered with her hands cupping her mouth, as if telling me a secret.

“Do you get in trouble a lot?”

“No. Not really. Mommy sometimes uses it when I don’t eat all of my carrots. But I don’t like them. So I wrap them in my napkin and throw them in the trash can. That’s when she says my whole name.”

Somehow, I no longer questioned her safety at home, and found myself enjoying our conversation. “Don’t worry, I don’t like carrots, either. The only way I can eat them is if they’re not cooked and smothered in ranch salad dressing.”

“I like that, too!” she exclaimed with wide, expressive eyes that made them shine. “But Mommy doesn’t let me pour the dressing. She says I use too much. But she never gives me enough.”

“Oh, yeah? Does she use your whole name when you pour it yourself?”

Ayla giggled, which caused her eyes to squint. “Not the whole thing. She just says, ‘McKayla Bailey! You better eat it all!’ But sometimes my tummy hurts if I have too much. She doesn’t make me eat it all. She just tells me that’s why I can’t do it myself and kisses my head.”

“You sound like you have a good mom.” The thought made me smile.

“She’s the best. And she’s beautiful like me, too.” Her cheeks turned red just before burying her face in her hands as if she’d embarrassed herself.

The words on the tip of my tongue were halted with the sound of the door opening. I glanced to my right, expecting to see Ayla’s mom, when my heart ceased to beat in my chest. The air literally stolen from my lungs. And I felt as if I’d been sucker-punched by Muhammad Ali himself.

“Mommy!” Ayla yelled from in front of me, jumping off the floor and running to the woman at the door. That’s when my world spun, the ground opened up and swallowed me whole.

Nothing made sense.

Aubrey was Ayla’s mom?

I couldn’t move from my spot on the floor, knowing even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up and I’d fall over. Our gaze only disconnected when Ayla launched herself into Bree’s arms, but her eyes quickly found mine again.

“What are you doing here, Axel?” she asked me hesitantly, keeping her distance.

“I’m subbing here. Ayla’s teacher is in the hospital, and they don’t know if she’ll make a full recovery. I’m filling in for her class.” My words were slow and heavy as I tried to calm down and quit croaking my words out.

Her chest heaved frantically as she set Ayla back down. Panic seemed to overtake her as her hands shook and her eyes darted along the empty hallway. “We need to go.” She shook her head, exhaled, and mumbled to herself, “I can’t freaking believe this.”

Finally finding my strength, I pulled myself up to my feet with the help of the wall behind me. “Is there something wrong, Bree? Some reason why you didn’t want me to know you have a kid?” I asked, needing even the slightest bit of clarity.

“I can’t do this with you right now.”

I moved to stand directly in front of her, putting myself between her and Ayla. With a low tone, I asked, “Who’s her father?”

“A kid from high school. It doesn’t matter.”

“Is that who forgot to pick her up today?”

We stood practically nose to nose, so the moment the tears coated her eyes, I noticed. I took a step back and studied her carefully, unsure where the emotion had come from.

“I’m sorry if I upset you, but I don’t like—”

“It’s none of your concern, Axel!” she yelled, just before her sob stole her voice. “It has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to know anything about our life.”

I didn’t want to back down, but hearing Ayla quietly ask her mother if she was okay stopped me from fighting back. She was too small and too innocent to be stuck between the animosity Bree and I seemed to have with one another. But I couldn’t simply let it go. I followed them out to the parking lot and waited until Bree belted Ayla into her seat in the back and closed the door.

I shuffled to the side and blocked Bree from getting in the car. She wrapped her light sweater around herself and set her sights beyond me, refusing to meet my eyes.

“You told me the other day that you were happy. That everything was good for you. So why did you break down the moment I asked about her father? Why are you crying? And why are you so damn hell-bent on fighting with me?”

She tilted her head back, searched the clouds for answers like she always used to do, and then she closed her eyes and filled her lungs, as if she held onto her patience by a thread. Returning her attention to me, she wiped away a tear and then crossed her arms. “It’s so like you to assume that everything I do revolves around you. My dad was supposed to pick her up today. He picks her up every Monday because it’s his day off work, and he’s set it aside for her. I had no idea anything was wrong until I got the call from the school, letting me know my child hadn’t been picked up. I just found out that my dad is in the hospital, fighting for his life after getting into a car accident on his way here to pick Ayla up. So excuse me if I’m upset. Pardon my tears. And get your head out of your ass for once. It’s not all about you.”

I swallowed hard, unable to take my eyes off hers.

“Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I need to leave.”

I stepped back, didn’t say a word, and allowed her access to her car. I wanted to hug her, comfort her, and assure her that everything would be all right. I wanted to climb in her car and drive her wherever she needed to go, and then stay with her until I knew she was okay. But I couldn’t do any of that. She wasn’t mine anymore, and there was someone else to stand in as that person for her.

She had someone else to raise a family with.

Someone else to hold her, touch her, kiss her.

Someone else to love her.

She didn’t need any of that from me. So without another word, I walked away, and watched over my shoulder as she left me…again. I didn’t know how many more times I’d be able to handle that. And for a moment, I wondered if I should just leave town, make it easier for both of us. But I knew that was nothing but a coward’s way out. And I’d taken too many of those over the last six years. I wouldn’t do it again.

As I drove home, I couldn’t take my mind off Aubrey. I couldn’t let go of the image of her tears. The sound of her broken voice filled my ears and haunted me. I knew she didn’t need me, and going to her would be completely selfish, but that didn’t stop me from the sudden U-turn I made. It didn’t keep me from driving straight to the hospital. And it certainly didn’t slow me down as I ran inside without a single plan or thought as to what I would say when I found her.

Nearly out of breath, I stopped at the reception counter in the front. “I’m looking for Mr. Jacobs. He came in not too long ago from a car accident.” I hadn’t even given it any thought that I didn’t know his name, and only prayed that the last was also Jacobs. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere.

The older lady typed something into her computer and then straightened her glasses before turning her attention back to me. “Mr. Jacobs just came out of surgery, but he’s in ICU at the moment. Only immediate family is allowed in there.”

Without hesitating, I said, “His daughter is here, and she has her five-year-old with her. I’m just here to pick her up and take her home. Her phone must be off or not getting any service because I can’t get ahold of her.” Although I did see a car like Aubrey’s in the parking lot on my way in, it was a rather common model and color, and could’ve belonged to anyone. I prayed I wouldn’t be caught in a lie.

The woman behind the counter sighed and relaxed her shoulders in sympathy. “Go to the second floor. If she’s not in the waiting room there, ask one of the nurses at the counter and they’ll get her for you. They won’t allow you in the room, but at least they’ll be able to get her for you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” I slapped the counter lightly and ran to the elevator bank, impatiently stabbing at the arrow button until the doors opened.

Once on the second floor, I scanned the area for the nurses’ station, only to find who I’d been looking for curled up in a chair in the waiting room behind a large glass window. My feet felt glued to the floor beneath me as my chest tightened at the sight of her. I’d seen her broken before, but never like this. It was as if she could handle almost anything happening to her, but couldn’t bear something happening to someone she loved. It only made my heart ache worse for her.

I carefully treaded into the waiting room, stopping in the doorway. The room was empty. Bree was the only one in there. Her feet were pressed into the seat with her knees pulled up against her chest, her arms hugging them to her. She hadn’t noticed me because she kept her face buried as her back shook with what I could only assume were her sobs.

Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, I made my way to the seat next to her, sitting down carefully so as not to scare her. Finally, she pulled her head away from her knees and turned to me. In that moment, I wanted to sweep her into my arms and hold her tight, never letting her go. But I refrained and kept my distance, not wanting to push her even further away than she already was.

Her face scrunched up in grief as she hiccupped a cry. Her arms fell away from her legs, and the moment her feet reached the ground again, she pushed herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and crying into my shoulder.

“It’s okay, Bree. He’s going to be okay. So are you.”

“Why are you here?” she asked into my now wet shirt.

“I didn’t know if you had anyone with you, and I didn’t want you to be alone. I didn’t know if you needed help with Ayla. And I couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain, and possibly alone.”

Her arms loosened some, allowing her to pull away slightly without letting go completely. She sniffled and wiped her face on her sweater sleeve. “My sister came to pick Ayla up and take her home. I feel bad, because I’m sure Sarah wants to be here, too. He’s just as much a father to her as he is to me. But I can’t leave until he wakes up. I just can’t…” Her pain took over again, stealing her words.

“Where’s your stepmom?”

She shook her head. “She’s not feeling well and can’t come until later. And my other sister is on her honeymoon. If something happens…”

I held her face in my hands, pushing her head back so that she could look at me. “He’s going to wake up, Aubrey. You don’t need to sit here alone, waiting for it. They’ll call you and let you know how he’s doing. He made it out of surgery, right? The rest is the easy part. He just needs to sleep and regain his strength again. And then he’ll wake up.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I pressed my lips to her forehead, not even thinking about it beforehand. It felt too natural. “Because you had to have gotten your strength from somewhere. It wasn’t your mother. I think it’s a safe assumption that your dad is a strong man. He’s a survivor…like you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she rested her head against my shoulder again.

“Listen, if you want to wait here, I’ll wait with you. I don’t care how long you stay. I won’t leave. But I really do think you’ll be more comfortable at home. You’re not doing yourself any good by being here.”

“I can’t go home. I’d never forgive myself if he…”

“You can’t think like that, Bree. You have to stay positive.”

She relaxed against me with a deep sigh. “I just want to stay a little bit longer. Just until I have some news. Otherwise, I won’t be able to sleep,” she whispered, sounding so far away.

The overwhelming need consumed me to hold onto her and bring back the Bree I knew and loved. The only thing I knew to do was to talk to her about something. It’s what we always did. When things got tough, we’d just sit and talk, and before we knew it, everything would seem brighter and more manageable. “Tell me about him. You never said much about your dad before, and now you seem really close. I want to hear all about him.”

With my arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer, she let out a small shudder and grabbed the side of my shirt in her fist, causing my heart to nearly beat out of my chest. “He’s a great man. He made mistakes when I was younger, but he’s owned up to all of them. And he’s more than made up for them, too. My stepmom is amazing, and so are my sisters. I hated that my mom kept me away from such a loving family, but at least I have them in my life now.”

“He’s good with Ayla?” Even though it was no longer my job to protect Bree, or her daughter, I couldn’t fight the unexplainable strong connection I felt toward them both. I only needed to make sure they were both being well taken care of.

Her small giggle rippled through my side as she snuggled closer, attempting to hide her humor. “When he found out about Ayla, he wasn’t too happy. But once he got out the typical father speech about how he wanted better for me, he seemed rather happy. I think she’s kind of helped him overcome his guilt over things he regrets from when I was young. And he sees how good she is for me, too…that makes him happy.”

“She’s the reason you never went to college?”

“Yeah. But I don’t regret it for a minute. I thought about taking classes once she started school, but I decided against it a while ago. The drive isn’t really there for me. I think the reason I wanted to go to college so much before was to get away from my mom. But I don’t have that excuse anymore.”

“What about your job? You said you hate it.” I wanted to keep her talking, not only to prevent her mind from falling prey to the situation in front of her, but also because I didn’t know how much time I had with her, and I needed to know everything I could about the woman she’d turned out to be.

“My dad and Robin, as well as my sisters, have been so supportive ever since I came into their lives. They never treated me as anything other than their family. But after I graduated from high school, I wanted to be as independent as I could. I didn’t want to rely on them for everything, so I took the only job that was available at the time. I work at a motel downtown, the one across from the lake. But I had to take the nightshifts because Ayla needed me during the day. Now that she’s in school, I can work days, but they don’t need a day clerk at the moment, and everywhere else I’ve applied said they can’t be flexible enough for my situation. So I’m stuck there.”

“Why do you hate the motel so much? Just the hours?”

“That,” she started with a huff, “and it’s a pay-by-the-hour place. Meaning we get a lot of shady people. Hookers, johns, cheating husbands…those types of seedy characters. It’s depressing, but it helps pay the bills.”

I fought the urge to ask about her husband—what he did for a living, why didn’t he help out that much—but I refrained, knowing that listening to her talk about him would hurt more than the knowledge of his existence. So I kept my questions and concerns to myself and surmised that he was probably just as young as Bree, and most likely struggled along with her instead of being the dead-beat dad I’d imagined him to be.

“You still dream of making furniture?”

Her body had fully relaxed against mine as she nodded. “But it’s not something that I will be able to do anytime soon. I’ve realized that I don’t need school to do it. I only need money,” she said with a laugh. “I know it’ll take me time to save up, but I also know how worth it it’ll be in the end, knowing I did it all on my own.”

Before I could say anything else to her, a nurse walked in the room. “Are you the family of Mr. Jacobs?” she asked, holding a clipboard to her chest as she stood in the doorway.

Bree jumped up, her hands shaking at her sides. “Yes…he’s my father.”

Without thought, without a moment’s hesitation, I reached out and grabbed her hand in mine, gripping it tightly to show her my support. She needed to know that someone was there for her.

The older woman in pink and white scrubs took a few steps and sat down in the chair closest to her, motioning for Aubrey to do the same. “He’s awake. He’s very tired and still recovering from the anesthesia, so he’s groggy and doesn’t really know what’s going on. We have him sedated with heavy pain meds, so he’s not very lucid. But he’s in the clear, and that’s all that matters right now. You’re welcome to see him if you’d like, but we ask that only one person at a time goes in. And we don’t suggest staying too long. If he knows you’re in there, he might try to stay awake, and he needs his rest to allow his body to heal.”

Aubrey relaxed in front me. Her shoulders slumped and her head dropped. “Any idea of how long it’ll take for him to recover? When will he get to come home?”

The nurse shook her head and answered, “Let’s take it one step at a time, but as long as everything goes well, which we fully expect it to, he should be moved to a regular room tomorrow. As far as when he will be released, I can’t give you an answer. It all depends on how fast his body starts to heal.”

“Thank you,” Bree whispered, gripping my hand.

I wasn’t sure if she meant it toward me or the nurse, but the lady smiled and left the room. I didn’t move, refused to let go of Bree, and waited for her to make the first move.

“I need to go home.”

I nodded, knowing my time had come to an end.

“But I don’t want to be alone.”