The Wall of Winnipeg and Me (38 page)

“Yes,” he answered in such an earnest, easy way that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Huh. “What are you doing?” The television wasn’t on and a book was set on his nightstand.

“I was thinking about the game last week, and what I could have done differently.”

Of all the things in the world, why did that just happen to reach straight into my ribs and grab my heart? “Of course you were.”

Aiden lifted one of those big, brawny shoulders, his eyes going to the super, sexy long-sleeved button up flannel pajamas I had on. “Are you going to sleep?” he asked, even as his gaze raked its way back up to my face.

“I’m not that tired. I’ll probably watch some more TV or something.”

Even in the dark light, I could tell his cheek twitched. “Watch it with me,” he suggested easily.

Wait. What?

“You’re not tired?”

“I took a long nap. There’s no chance I’m going to sleep soon,” he explained.

I smiled and rubbed my foot along the edge of where the hardwood floor hallway met the carpet of his bedroom. “Are you sure you don’t have more plays to think about?”

Aiden gave me a sour look.

He was inviting me to watch television with him. What other answer was there besides, “Okay”?

By the time I got back to his room after depositing my dirty clothes in the hamper in my room, the big guy had scooted over to one side of the bed and turned on the forty-something inch television propped on one of his dressers. With his hands linked behind his head, he watched me as I came in, feeling just slightly awkward.

I gave him a tiny smile and kept eye contact as I pulled the comforter up and slipped under it, waiting to see if he’d complain. He didn’t. There was about two feet of space between us on the California King. I moved the pillow against the headboard and settled in with a sigh.

“Van?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Tugging the sheets up to my neck, I blinked at the ceiling. “Nothing.”

“Don’t make me ask you again.”

And that only made me feel bad. It was easy to forget how much he knew about me. “I’m fine. I’ve just been feeling pretty mopey today for some reason, maybe it’s hormones or something. That’s all.” I wrung my hands. “It’s dumb. I love Christmas.”

There was a pause before he asked, “You don’t visit your mom?”

“No.” I realized after I said it how dismissive I sounded. “My sisters spend it with her. She’s married now and has step-kids that go over there. She’s not alone.” And even if she were all by herself, I would still not go. I could be honest with myself.

“Where’s your brother?”

“With his friend.”

“Your friend? Diana?”

With how busy he’d been, we hadn’t spent much time together other than saying ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ and catching some TV at the same time. “She’s with her family.” After I said it, I realized how it sounded. “I swear, I’m usually okay. I just feel off, I guess. What about you? Are you fine?”

“I’ve spent most of my Christmas’ alone for the last decade. It isn’t a big deal.”

Of all the people to spend the holidays with, it was with the one whose history was a little too similar to mine. “I guess the good thing is, you don’t have to spend it alone anymore if you don’t want to.” I’m not sure why I said what I said next, but I did. “At least while you’re stuck with me.”

Could I sound any more pathetic?

“I am stuck with you, aren’t I?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice.

He was trying to make me feel better, wasn’t he? “For the next four years and eight months.” I smiled over at him even as this incredible sense of sadness filled my belly like sand in an hourglass.

His head jerked back. The action was tiny, tiny, tiny, but it had been there.

Or had I imagined it?

Before I could wonder too much about whether he’d reacted or not, the big guy who seemed to swallow up his bed, bluntly asked, “Are you finally going to tell me what your sister did to piss you off?”

Of course he would ask. Why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like I considered it a secret. I just didn’t like talking about it. On the other hand, if there were someone in the world I could talk about Susie with, it would be Aiden. Who would he tell? The thing was, even if he did have someone to, if I really thought about it, he was more than likely the most trustworthy person I knew.

I wasn’t sure when that had happened, but I wasn’t going to wonder about it too much, especially not on Christmas Eve when he’d invited me to his bed, and I was feeling lonelier than I had in a long time.

Shifting a little on the mattress, I propped my head up on my hand and just went for it. “She hit me with a car when I was eighteen.”

Those incredibly long black eyelashes hovered low over his eyes. Were his ears going red? “The car accident,” his voice was hoarse, “the person that you told me ran you over…” His blink was so slow I might have thought there was something wrong with him if I hadn’t known otherwise. “It was your sister?”

“Yes.”

Aiden stared straight at me, the confusion apparent in the slight lines that crept out from the corners of his eyes. “What happened?” he ground the question out.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time for you.”

“It’s a really long story,” I insisted.

“Okay.”

This guy. I had to stretch my neck as if warming up for this crap storm. “All of my sisters have issues, but Susie’s always been something else. I have anger problems, I know. Surprising right? The only one of us who I think doesn’t have problems is my little brother. I think my mom was boozing it up while she was pregnant with us or maybe our dads were just different levels of assholes, I’m not sure.”

Why was I telling him that? “Anyway, things have always been bad between us. I don’t have a single decent memory of her. Not one, Aiden. There was the closet thing, her coming up and smacking me in the face for no reason, yelling at me, pulling my hair, breaking my things for no reason… I mean, all kinds of crap. I didn’t fight back for the longest until I got tired of her shit, right around when I grew to be bigger than she was, and I finally had enough. She had already been drinking and doing drugs by then. I know she had been for a while. But I didn’t care. I was tired of being her punching bag.

“Well, this one time, she really kicked my ass. She pushed me down the stairs and I broke my arm. My mom was… I don’t know where she was. My little brother freaked out and called 911. The ambulance came and took me to the hospital. The doctors or the nurses or someone called my mom. She didn’t answer. I didn’t know where she was and neither did any of my siblings. The hospital finally called CPS and they took me, and then they took them. I don’t know how long it took my mom to figure out we were all gone, but she lost custody.

“I spent the next almost four years with my foster parents and little brother. I saw my mom a few times, but that was it. Right after I went away to school, she started calling me asking what I was going to do during the summer, telling me how she’d love to see me. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking back then. She had a steady job, so I went… and it wasn’t until I got there that I realized she wasn’t living alone. Susie and my oldest sister were living with her. I hadn’t seen either one of them in years.

“I should have known then that it would have been better for me to go somewhere else. My friend Diana’s parents were still living next door, but she was doing something that weekend so she wasn’t going to be home, and I didn’t want to stay there without her; my foster parents had told me I always had a home with them—I mean, my little brother was still with them. But for some stupid reason, I wanted to give my mom a chance. We—Susie and I—started fighting the moment I got there, and I should have fucking known. The moment I saw her, I could tell she was on something. I tried to talk to my mom about it, but she blew me off and said Susie had changed, blah, blah, blah.

“Seriously, it was my second night back, and I had walked by my mom’s room and found her going through my mom’s drawers. We started arguing. She called me a bunch of ugly stuff, started throwing things at me, and nailed me with a vase. I barely saw her grab my purse off the kitchen counter when she ran out of the house with whatever else she had grabbed before I caught her. I was so pissed off, Aiden.

“It’s so dumb when I think about it now, and what’s even dumber is that I still would have chased after her even knowing what would happen. She got into her car, and I started yelling at her through the window when she backed out of the driveway. I didn’t want to get my toes run over, so I went to stand in front of her car when she suddenly put it into drive and hit the gas pedal.”

Anxiety and grief kind of grabbed my lungs as I kept telling him what happened. “I remember her face when she did it. I remember everything. I didn’t black out until the ambulance showed up, which was after she peeled out of the driveway and left me there. Diana had gotten home early and she was in her room when it happened, and overheard us shouting. She came out right before Susie hit me and called 911, thankfully. The doctor told me later on that I was lucky I had my body turned just right and that she only hit one of my knees and not both.”

How many times had I told myself that I was over this? A thousand? But the betrayal still stung me in a million different sensitive places. “
Lucky.
Lucky that my sister hit me with a car and only hurt one of my knees. Can you believe that?”

Something bubbled up in my throat and then made its way up to the back of my eyes. Some people would call them tears, but I wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to cry over what happened. And my voice definitely wasn’t cracking with emotion. “My tendon was ruptured. I had to miss an entire semester of school to recover.”

The big guy stared at me. His nostrils flared just slightly. “What happened after she hit you?”

“She disappeared for a couple months. Not everyone believed me when I told them she’d done it, even though I had a witness. I was pretty sure she’d been sober when she did it—that’s probably why she was stealing money, to go get whatever it was she wanted. My mom wanted me to forgive her and move on, but… how could she ask me to do that? She knew what she’d been doing. Susie had stolen money from her too. She’d chosen to do it, you know? And even if she’d been high, it would still have been her choice to get high and steal shit from the people she was supposed to love. Her choice led her to that moment. I can’t feel bad for that.”

I couldn’t. Could I? Forgiveness was a virtue, or at least that’s what someone had told me, but I wasn’t feeling very virtuous.

“I went and stayed with my foster parents afterward. There was no way I was going to stay at Diana’s right next door. My foster dad had me do his accounting work, be his secretary, all kinds of things so I could at least earn my room and board because I didn’t want to freeload off of them. Then I went back to school once I was better.”

“What happened with your sister?” he asked.

“After she hit me, I didn’t see her again for years. You know what kills me the most though? She never apologized to me.” I shrugged. “Maybe it makes me a little coldblooded, but—”

“It doesn’t make you coldblooded, Van,” The Wall of Winnipeg interjected with a crisp tone. “Someone you should have been able to trust hurt you. No one can blame you for not wanting to give her a hug after that. I haven’t been able to forgive people for less.”

That made me snort bitterly. “You’d be surprised, Aiden. It’s still a sore subject. No one besides my little brother understands why I’m mad. Why I don’t just get over it. I get that they’ve never liked me for whatever reason, but it still feels like a betrayal that they’d be behind Susie instead of me. I don’t understand why. Or what I did to make them feel like I’m their enemy. What am I supposed to do?”

Aiden frowned. “You’re a good person and you’re talented, Vanessa. Look at you. I don’t know what your sisters are like, but I can’t believe they’re half of what you are.”

He listed the attributes so breezily they didn’t feel like compliments. They felt like statements, and I didn’t know what to do with it, especially because in the back of my head, I knew Aiden wouldn’t say those things to make me feel better. He just wasn’t the type to nurture, even if he felt obligated, unless he genuinely, really wanted to.

But before I could think about it anymore, he admitted something so out of the blue, I wasn’t remotely prepared for it. “I might not be the best person to give you family advice. I haven’t talked to my parents in twelve years.”

I jumped on that wagon the second I could, preferring to talk about him than me. “I thought you went to go live with your grandparents when you were fifteen?”

“I did, but my grandfather died when I was a senior in high school. They came to the funeral, found out he had left everything to my grandmother, and my mom told me to take care of myself. I’ve never seen them since then,” Aiden recounted.

“Your dad didn’t say anything?”

Aiden shifted in bed, almost as if he was lowering himself to be flatter on the mattress. “No. I was four inches taller than him by then, sixty pounds heavier. The only time he talked to me when I lived with them was when he wanted to yell at someone.”

“I’m sorry to talk about your dad, but he sounds like an asshole.”

“He
was
an asshole. I’m sure he still is.”

I wondered… “Is he why you don’t cuss?”

No-bullshit Aiden answered. “Yes.”

It was in that moment, that I realized how similar Aiden and I were. This intense sense of affection, okay maybe it was more than affection—I could be an adult and admit it—squeezed my heart.

Looking at Aiden, I held back the sympathy I felt and just kept a grip on the simmering anger as I eyed his scar. “How did he do that to you?”

“I was fourteen, right before I hit my big growth spurt.” He cleared his throat, his face aimed at the ceiling, confirming he knew that I knew. “He’d been drinking too much and he was mad at me for eating the last lamb chop… he shoved me into the fireplace.”

I was going to kill his dad. “Did you go to the hospital?”

Aiden’s scoff caught me totally off guard. “No. We didn’t—he wouldn’t have let me go. That’s why it healed so badly.”