October Breezes (17 page)

“Okay, Warren.” Mom glared at him. “I’l let it go. I’l let you go, too.” She pointed to the door. “Just leave.”

Warren slowly nodded, looking from Mom to me. “If you think that’s best, I understand.” He headed toward the door, only stopping long enough to lay his hand on my shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. “Keep your chin up.” He quietly let himself out.

Once the front door had closed behind him, I said, “I know you’re angry,” I told my mother, “but Warren didn’t do anything.”

Mom walked to the front door and locked it. “You wanted Warren out, and now you got your wish, Skye. Go to bed.” She looked right through me.

I cringed. “Mom, go after him." I looked out the window and saw his headlights flicker on. "Tel him you didn’t mean it!” I heard the desperation in my voice and tried to reconcile it with what I’d expected to feel once I’d driven Warren away. I’d never once doubted I could accomplish it, but I hadn’t counted on the cost.

There was no joy, only this overbearing feeling of
What have I
done?
Warren's Stealth puled out and drove down the street.

She whirled to face me, her cheeks flushed. “Why would I listen, Skye? First off, you’re drunker than I’ve ever been. Second, you lied. Third, I don’t even know who you are anymore.” She stalked past. “Besides, you should be glad he’s gone. It’s what you wanted. You’ve never liked him. Never. " She strode down the halway. “Turn off the lights when you go upstairs.”

The house settled into a silence that seemed to breathe, and I wished I could take the whole night back. One choice had led me to this, and there was no going back. Now I had not only hurt myself but also my mom and Warren.

I trudged up the steps, grabbed a nightgown and robe and started a shower. Although I usualy took hot showers, this time the water stung my skin as I tried to wash Tyler away. With every movement, my ribs ached.

Through the deluge, I saw more bruises where Tyler had held me down, the bluish marks identicaly matching his hands. The longer I stared at the discolored skin, the more nauseated I felt until I knelt and vomited. As water spiled through my hair, it stung my scalp where the skin had been broken, and I didn’t want to shampoo it. Pain assaulted my chest, and I wondered how to make it go away without teling my mother the truth.

Moving was slow and dressing slower. I tried not to look in the mirror, but when combing my hair, I found myself focusing on my bloodshot eyes and haunted face. No wonder my mother didn’t know me. Even I didn’t recognize the woman staring back. I found myself pleading to that reflection to right things between my mom and Warren.

Instead of my bedroom, I crept into Mom’s. Although she was furious, her room had always had an open-door policy. Even now that door stood open. Maybe she didn’t want to talk, but I needed to be with her and pretend I was the same Skye as I had been five years ago—a girl who had pleased her by smiling.

I lay near the bed and listened to her sleep, wishing I could find peace. There was no one I could talk to to make sense of this pain. Devin had known something would happen, and that was why he didn’t want to pick up the pieces. They were too smal to fit together.

I hadn’t come into her room to fal asleep. I only meant to stay a few minutes, but it was so hard to be alone, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Tyler’s face. I saw his rage and felt his hands. My mother was the one person who had never abandoned me, no matter what.

* **

I blinked and flinched at the harsh morning light flooding the room.

“That’s bright.” I moaned, immediately hammered by the frantic throbbing in my head. “Head hurts.” I covered my eyes.

Mom stood, numbly dodging me as she made her bed.

“Welcome to Hangover 101. Only one of many good reasons not to drink.” She moved my arm. “Rise and shine, Sleepyhead.

You’re going to be realy busy today. There’s a whole house to clean, and that’s just the start.”

I forced myself upright and clutched the blanket covering me, trying not to react to my ribs. “I don’t feel so good,” I whispered, and Mom thrust the waste basket in front of me.

“Good. Maybe if you feel bad enough, you’l think twice about drinking again.” She waited for me to finish vomiting and asked, “When did you come in here?

“After I took a shower.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and felt chiled. Pain exploded in my ribs, and it took everything I had to keep from crying out.

Mom grabbed some jeans and a sweater. “I’l give you ten minutes to get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.” She started into her bathroom.

“Mom?”

She turned and waved me silent. “There’s no point in talking, Skye. You were right last night. This mess is your fault and while I’d like to know who gave you the booze, you’re not going to tel me. Now, you live with the consequences.”

“But right now I’m not the only one who’s living with them.” I sat down and brought my knees to my chest. “I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me or excuse what I did. But I’d like you to give Warren another chance.” I brushed the bangs from my face.

“Warren is a part of the past, Skye.” She took a deep breath and leaned against the door frame. Even though she tried to hide it, I could see she trembled. “You should be glad. You never liked him, anyway.”

I forced myself to the bathroom. “That’s not true.

Warren’s been okay. He wasn’t trying to take my side. He just wanted to help.” I touched her arm. “You were right to be angry, and you'l never know how sorry I am. But Warren didn’t do anything. Please don’t kick him out of our lives.”

My mom patted my arm and looked away. “Broken things don’t heal overnight.”

“But they can heal, Mom. They can.” I headed to the halway. “I’l go upstairs and change. Then you can tel me what you need me to do.”

I trudged up the steps, wondering if she’d give Warren another chance. It felt so strange, hoping to keep someone in my life I’d spent so much time hating. I never expected to like the Mockingbird Man, but I was learning that life rarely played by my expectations.

The minute I started changing, I noticed the stiffness.

When I lifted the nightgown, I gasped as my ribs felt like they were on fire. Even breathing hurt. After ten agonizing minutes, I’d managed to dress, and heard the phone ringing. I deliberately delayed coming down so if the cal were for me, she would tel whomever it was I couldn’t talk. Perhaps by my eighteenth birthday I’d be free to socialize again.

After a few minutes, she was stil talking on the phone, and I ambled down the steps, listening to the conversation. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. She was pretty shook up after her last visit.” Pause. “Look, I’m having enough problems keeping her out of trouble. It’s like she suddenly has lost control.” Another pause.

“No, I can handle it.”

I walked into the room, but my mother’s back was turned.

“You haven’t been a father to her, and you want to start now?”

Pause. “Maybe that’s an option if things keep going the way they are, but only because I know she would hate living with you.”

Another pause.

She must have been talking to my dad. My world began to unravel and I cringed. Did she mean that if I messed up again, she would actualy send me to live with him?

“No!” I said. “No!” Then I darted into the kitchen.

Mom whirled. “I need to go. I’l cal you later.”

She folowed me into the kitchen. “Skye, wait.” She clutched the phone, a furious scarlet on her cheeks. “You only heard part of the conversation.”

“Yeah,” I retorted, “the important part—the part about if I don’t straighten up, you’l send me to Dad’s, knowing I’l hate it.” I opened the refrigerator, not because I was hungry but because I needed to do something. I had to keep moving, or I’d go mad.

“Maybe I should run away now and save you the trouble.”

Mom cut me off. “That’s not fair, Skye.”

“Neither is unloading o n me because I messed up.” I reached past her to grab a soda. “I’m human, Mom. I make mistakes.”

Mom folded her arms across her chest. “This isn’t a smal error, Skye. You lied to me, and you got drunk! Maybe if you think there is something you can’t bear to lose, you won’t do it again.”

I puled my soda can open. “You’re not giving me a chance to see if this is a one-time mess up before threatening to ship me to Dad’s. Maybe I was wrong, Mom. Maybe I just thought Dad was the only one who didn’t want me.”

Mom paled and dropped the phone. Instead of reaching for it, she grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Don’t say that!

I’m only trying to protect you.”

I gasped, and it took everything I had to hide the pain. I set the ful soda on the counter and stepped back so she couldn’t reach me. “That’s just it, Mom. You can’t protect me anymore. No one can.”

“I didn’t mean for you to hear that conversation,” she said, setting her hands on her hips.

“Wel, I did.” I glared at her. “If you’d could've kept it secret, that would have made it okay?”

Shaking her head, Mom gestured to a paper on top of the microwave. “Your list is right here.”

The telephone rang and she bent to grab it. She answered calmly, giving away nothing of what was happening here. “She can’t talk. She's lost phone privileges," Mom said, then paused. “Yes, I’l tel her you caled.” Once my mom had hung up, she said, “That was Devin.” When I didn’t respond, Mom shook her head. “This isn’t my fault, Skye. You have no right to be angry.” She walked away.

I gritted my teeth, knowing I was wel past anger to a profound sadness. I had once believed my mother's love was beyond shifting but after hearing her talk to my dad, nothing and no one seemed beyond changing.

I spent al day finishing the chores on that list, and I quickly realized I hated the tasks she'd selected. I had to hand it to her.

She was doing her best to make sure I didn’t repeat this mistake.

Then again, not al this had been my fault.

We carefuly avoided each other, and I didn’t know what to say. I don’t think she knew what to say, either. The silence deepened around dinner time as we foraged separately through the leftovers and made do. Not that it mattered what I ate. It al tasted like cardboard.

As I headed to my room, I heard the doorbel ring and I paused at the landing, waiting to see who had come to visit--

Warren. As Mom alowed him into the foyer, I saw the flowers he handed her. “I don’t know if you’l take these or even my apology,”

he said. “I didn’t mean to anger you last night. I was only trying to help.”

My mom leaned close and kissed his cheek. Seeing them that close, I knew she'd forgive him. I just wasn’t sure she'd ever forgive me. It wasn’t that I’d never gotten in trouble before. My speak-first- think-later approach had a knack for causing problem, as had my candor. I’d even been in a fight during recess once when I was ten. But this…this was something altogether different.

I lay on the bed, wondering how long her anger's punishment phase would last. Stil, thinking of her kept me from dweling on Tyler; that would come later, when I tried to sleep.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. “Go away!” I snapped.

“Skye?” Warren’s muffled voice greeted me. “Can I talk to you?”

At first I wanted to yel at him, too, and before the whole party thing I would have, but none of this was his fault. He just happened to be standing under the fan when it hit. When I didn’t answer, he softly knocked again. “Please, Skye, let me come in.”

Grudgingly, I forced myself to open the door. Then I sat back on the bed.

“You’ve had a rough weekend,” he said, lowering himself into the chair by my desk.

“To say the least.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“It’s probably my worst weekend ever, but I’m sure if Mom realy tries, she can top it next Saturday and Sunday.”

“That’s not fair.”

I shook my head. “Neither is she right now.”

He looked at the waterfal screen-saver on my computer and leveled his gaze at me. “I wanted to thank you for what you did on my behalf this morning. It means a lot.” He leaned back in the chair.

“I just told the truth, Warren. You didn’t do anything wrong, and she shouldn’t have screamed at you. It was my fault.” I refused to meet his gaze.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Skye.”

“Tel that to my mom.
Maybe
she’l believe
you.”

“Maybe.” He nodded. “Then again, I find it hard to believe someone who is so honest about her mistakes would suddenly become so irresponsible to lie about where she was going, get drunk, and return home almost two hours late. In fact, I’m hardly wiling to believe that last night was al your fault, and I’d like to hear the rest of the story.” He walked to the bed. “I’m not your dad. I know that. But I’m wiling to listen and keep an open mind.”

“Not being my dad is a good thing these days,” I said, sitting upright and tucking my feet under my bottom. “Besides, I might have to live with him if I don’t change my evil ways.” Heat burned my eyes, blurring my vision.

“I don’t see that happening. She loves you too much not to be with you.” He patted my knee. “Don’t get me wrong. She puts up a great front, pretending to be angry, but you hurt her, Skye. I've never seen her that scared. She was ready to cal the hospitals and check to see if an ambulance had brought you in. Then when you came in drunk, you made her wonder if she was a good mother. In some ways, she blames herself.”

The tears spiled down my face. “She is a good mom. She didn’t do anything wrong.” My voice came out as a raspy whisper.

“I’l take the heat for the choices I made, but I don’t want to end up with my dad. He didn’t even want me when I was a baby—even if he’s changed his mind, I don’t want him.”

Warren reached out and brushed his hand across my check. “I don’t blame you for being angry. He should never have shut you out of his life. But try not to judge him for his choices.

Remember last night and how complicated things got in a hurry.

You’d think adults would make the right choices, but we’re no different than you, only older. We make mistakes, sometimes realy big ones.”