Pitcher's Baby (16 page)

“I'm okay. Really. I'm just a klutz,” she
says, trying to reassure me as we walk to Lucas's car. I picked her bag up off
the ground where it fell beside her, her white prescription bag having spilled
out of it. I want to look at it, to see what medicine she’s taking, but it's
not my business. If she wants me to know, she can tell me. I let her ride up
front with Lucas again, not wanting to make her crawl into the backseat, even
though she complains about it.

Lucas puts the car in reverse and meets my
eyes in the rearview mirror. My body is shaking. I try to stop it, to hold it
in, but I can't, and then her body starts shaking in the front seat, and the
entire car is bouncing from our laughter. I can't hold it in anymore. Tears are
running down my face. Maybe it's the adrenaline wearing off, maybe shock. I
don't know, but whatever it is, we are both losing it. Lucas looks from one of
us to the other before shaking his head and looking back at the road.

“What's wrong, Lucas? Have you . . . never
seen a woman . . . trip over a line in the road before?” She asks him, her
sentence broken from the laughter spilling out of her. I can help it. I lose
it.

“Oh my God! Stop! I can't . . . deal!”
This makes Lucas’s hard facade crumble.

“You two are nuts! NUTS!”

“I know,” we say at the same time and then
burst out laughing some more. I wish Emma were here right now. She would
understand this crazy moment, and later, when I couldn't stop thinking about it,
she would be there to go through all the emotions with me, nitpicking them to
death until we both thought we understood it all better. I feel like something
drastic has changed in the relationship with my mother. Something has shifted
out of place, or maybe back into place, I’m not sure. It both scares me and
excites me. Some of the hate I had harbored for her over the years sifts away
like fog in the morning light. Our shared laughter did that. It created a
bridge that tied me to her, and this time, the swampy waters below aren’t as
murky . . . they aren’t filled with as many hunger-craved beasts waiting to
take a chunk out of me.

Aaron is home when we get back, and I see
the hesitation in his eyes when he sees us all walk in and hears the easy
laughter between us all. I head to the kitchen, letting Aaron know that I asked
Lucas to stay for dinner tonight. I can see he wants to object. The thought of
his baby sister growing up and giving away the love she is supposed to keep
just for him is something he is not ready for, but before he can voice his
objection, Mom calls through the house, offering her help in the kitchen. I
readily agree, and I think that shocks him into silence. He left earlier today
for a date, and at that time, I still hated her. Here it is six hours later,
and we are cooking dinner together—willingly. He's not the only one surprised
by the turn in events. I am too. But today, I am just going to go with the flow
and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

Sometimes
in life, a wall is built up right in front of you and you can't figure out how
to get to the other side. I have been standing on the wrong side of my own wall
for a long time. Every time I would start to climb it, my own insecurities
would knock me back down. My monster would push me back to the ground and I
would give up. It took me a while to realize that up wasn't the only way to get
to the other side. So I have decided to walk around it. The wall is still
there. I haven't conquered it by any means, but I won't let it conquer me
anymore either. From now on, I am going to try to look at my past with my
mother as a wall I couldn't climb over. It happened. It sucked. It doesn’t have
to be my future anymore. I can choose another path. I don't need to go straight
up. I will go around it.

Chapter Twenty- Seven

Charlee

After dinner, Lucas and I go out into the
backyard for a few minutes alone after I lay Everly down for bed. As soon as
the door closes, I surprise him with a hot, steamy kiss on the lips and then
flit away from him before he has time to react. I have so much unspent energy
coursing through me, it's hard to stand still. All evening, I have watched him.
Over dinner while he chewed his food and when he was helping me wash up the
dishes, all I could think about is how much I wanted to feel his lips against
mine. Watching his mouth open and close, I wanted to pull his bottom lip in
between my teeth and suck on it. I needed to taste his sweet peppermint breath.

It's no wonder I attacked him the first
moment I could. His deep, husky laughter fills the air around me now as he
chases me around the yard, darting around the old swing set. He grabs hold of
my hand and pulls gently, spinning me around to face him. I wrap my free arm
around his neck as he leans in. His eyes never leave mine. My breath catches in
my throat in silent anticipation.

The desire and . . . love I see reflected
in his soft chocolate gaze roots me to the ground. I can't move. I can't think.
I can't breathe. I feel like we are sharing something special right this moment,
and then the spell breaks. He darts in quickly, kissing me just long enough for
me to sigh contentedly but crave more, and then he runs away, yelling “You’re
it.” into the dark, humid night.

Game on, buster.

We chase each other through the yard for
what seems like hours before collapsing in a pile of flesh and bones in the
middle of the yard. I lay my head on his chest, listening to the thrum thrum
thrum of his heartbeat in my ear. Its soothes me as much as his hands drawing
circles on my back. I could stay here forever in his arms, but soon, he tells
me he has to head into town, and I need to go get some rest. I know he's right,
but it still leaves me swallowing my disappointment.

Part of me, the ugly part of me, believes
he just doesn't want to stay here with me anymore. That he's had his fun, but
now it's over and time to move on. I know that isn't the case, but it's still
hard to not feel it. I nod my head against his chest and swallow down the ache
burning through me.

Wrapping his arms around me, he kisses me
sweetly one more time before heading out. When I walk in my room, Everly is
sound asleep, listening to the lull of waves playing in the background.

The box on top of my dresser draws my
attention. It's been over a week since the last time I read a letter. At the
time, I didn’t think I’d ever want to read another one, but after the day I’ve
had, it feels right. I pull out the first one my hand touches and turn it over
to check the post date. June 2011. I tear it open, careful not to destroy the
artwork on the back, and then I sit on my bed and lose myself in this letter
from the past.

My beautiful baby,

When I close my eyes, I pretend that I can
see you. You're running through an open field, laughing loudly as you trail
your fingertips along the tall grass, stopping to pick a flower and pull it to
your nose for a quick sniff. Inhaling all that is beautiful and bright and wonderful
in the world. Embracing it wholeheartedly, just the way you always have.

You are sunshine. You are light. Nothing
in this world is as amazingly beautiful as you, baby. I hope you always
remember this. Life will undoubtedly throw many, many curveballs at you. And
let me tell you, she has a hell of an arm, but when you miss the catch, baby,
don't give up. Pick your glove up again and again. It will be hard. You will
want to give up. Don’t.

 If I could think of one thing to say to
you, it's this . . .

Don't be me.

There have been so many days where I just
look to the sky and ask why? Why did you create to just suffer? Just to screw
up, and then I remember that I created you, Aaron and Matt, and that has to
count for something, right? Maybe, just maybe, that was my reason for existing.
I don't know, but on my darkest days, that's what I tell myself so I can make
it through.

Don't ever let life hit you so hard that you
lose sight of the blessings staring you in the face.

Be stronger than I was. Don’t ever try to
forget the past. Embrace it. Allow it to make you stronger, wiser. Don't run
from it or hide it. It's all a part of you, but you don't have to let it define
you.

Be more.

I will love you every moment for the rest
of my life, even if I can only see you and hear you when I close my eyes. It
may be hard to believe at times, and I understand. God, do I understand, but
it's the truth. I miss you, Charlee—every day—and I pray for the chance to make
it all right.

Love, Mom.

Silent, salty tears flow down my face,
leaking onto the paper as I read it again and again. I lie back in my bed,
letting all the emotions I'm feeling wash over me. They are all so jumbled
together, I can't pull a single one out and examine it. They crush together,
hitting me harder and harder as I dissect each sentence until I can't read
through the tears anymore. My bed is still shaking from the sobs racking my
body, and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop them. My hand grips the page,
crumpling it in my grasp as I drift slowly off to sleep.

I hear someone enter my room, their socks
shuffling across the hardwood floors to my bedside. I try to pry my eyes open,
to see who is here and what they want, but Sandman has claimed me. A blanket is
eased over the top of me, and right before I fall into the oblivion of my dream
world, I feel it. A kiss so soft, I wonder if I imagined it, right on my right
temple. A rush of comfort flows through me, calming my shaking, sob-racked body
immediately. The kiss feels so familiar, like a memory stored away for
safekeeping, and yet so foreign, I'm not sure it's real or part of my dream. My
light is turned off. The room is thrown into total darkness, and I drift
farther and farther away.

When I wake the next morning, I'm still
clutching the paper tightly. It takes a moment for me to remember everything
that happened yesterday and what it all means. I rub my eyes with the heel of
my hand. Trying to clear the sleep out of them, I suddenly realize that last
night was to the first night I’d slept dreamlessly—no nightmares waking me in
the middle of the night with cold sweat pouring from my brow, panting,
wondering where I was and what was happening. It was refreshing to wake fully
rested and ready to take on the day. I smell coffee brewing downstairs and jump
in the shower, excited to start my day.

Mom’s door opens right as I open mine, and
my mother peers out on her way down the stairs. I stop just outside my door and
glance at her, not sure what to say . . . what will today bring? I see her
eyeing me, more than likely wondering what type of mood I'll be in today. I
offer her a shy, easy smile.

“You headed down for coffee too?” I ask
her, pausing at the top of the stairs. Her face lights up with relief as she
shuts the door behind her.

 “Yes. It smells heavenly,” she replies.
“Did you sleep well last night? I thought I heard you last night.”

I suddenly remember the feeling of warmth
last night just before I fell into a deep sleep. Someone was in my room. I know
that for sure. I woke up this morning to a blanket draped over me and the light
being turned off, but I wasn't sure if it was her or not. The soft kiss on the
temple led me to believe it was, and her questioning me now is probably her wondering
if I was aware. I'm not sure how to reply. Do I let her know that I know, or do
I just let it go?

“Yeah, it was fine. And you?” I ask,
deciding to avoid the conversation.

“It was good. Really good.”

Our conversation is cut short when we
enter the kitchen. Aaron is standing at the counter with two cups in hand. He
passes the first to me, and I immediately walk to the refrigerator, reaching
inside for my favorite Irish cream coffee creamer. I don't know how anyone
manages to drink straight black coffee. It has to be one of the vilest things
in this world. It’s bitter and hard to swallow, but if given the choice between
drinking black coffee and doing without it completely, then I'd happily choke
the horrendous substance down. There is no way in the world I could survive
without my daily caffeine intake.

I’ve just swallowed down my first heaping
gulp when the doorbell rings. Moments later, Ashlin walks in the kitchen
looking like something the cat dragged in. “What on earth, Ash? Did you get in
a fight with a dumpster?”

“Ha-ha. Scoot, bitch. Give me some of
that.” She takes my cup from my hands, raising it to her lips and inhaling its
sweet, warm goodness. I hear her sigh from behind me while I pour myself
another cup, thankful that Aaron made a full pot this morning. I pour in my
creamer and sugar and turn back toward her, eyeing her suspiciously. Her hair
is a ragged mess, draping down the middle of her back. She has swollen black
circles under her bloodshot eyes. I watch as she finishes her coffee and then
lays her head down on the counter.

“So sleepy.” She groans into the curve of
her arm. I chuckle at her. It's funny to me that the one night I sleep like an
angel, she has the worst sleep of her life.

Ok, that's it. I'm getting to the bottom
of this right now. I have never in my life seen Ashlin like this. She's slouching
off the bar stool right now, and she doesn't even realize it.