“Need some help?” I asked, having seen her fight with it long enough.
Mom looked up, glaring at me from under her mussed bangs. “Not from you,” she said hatefully.
“What’s the matter, Mom?”
“The same thing that’s always the matter, Ridley. You let Izzy die and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”
I’d heard this a few times before. Occasionally, Mom would get a hold of a nasty mood and, when coupled with vodka by the gallon, she would tell me where she really felt the blame for Izzy’s death lay—with me.
Regardless, though, it was always an excruciating slap in the face to know that anyone would dare blame me for the death of the sister that I loved so much. I’d gladly have taken Izzy’s place—many times I’d wished it had been me instead—but that wasn’t an option. She was practically dead as soon as the car struck the tree.
From the second we’d hit, Izzy’s fate had been out of my control.
But that would never be enough for Mom. She would mourn the loss of the
“good daughter” for the rest of her life. That, in turn, meant that she’d always point the finger of blame at the survivor—me.
It aggravated me when I felt tears collect behind my lashes.
“I didn’t let Izzy die, Mom,” I said, my voice betraying me with a tremble.
“You did! It should’ve been you, not her,” she spat angrily, tearing at the strap that crossed her ankle.
I bent to help her loosen the buckle.
“I wish it had been, Mom,” I said quietly, sniffing softly, hoping that my distress would remain undetected.
Mom grabbed my chin and jerked my face up, our eyes meeting.
“Don’t you dare try to make me feel guilty with your tears. You can’t fool me. She would never have been on that road if it weren’t for you. You don’t deserve to cry for her.”
“Mom, please. You know I would never hurt Izzy. I’d give anything to have her back.”
“Hush,” she said, turning her face from me. “I can’t stand to hear it anymore.
Just get that shoe off and leave me be.”
Again, my body betrayed me. As I nimbly worked the shoe loose and away from Mom’s foot, my tears peppered the tile of the foyer floor. I stood and handed her the shoe I’d just removed.
She took it from me, flinging it angrily down the hall toward her bedroom.
“Get out of my sight!”
Without so much as another glance in her direction, I turned and walked back to my room. When I closed the door behind me, I leaned back against it, hating the pain that suffused my chest. It was bad enough that I’d lost my sister almost four years ago, but in a way, I’d lost my entire family that fateful night, too.
My mother had drowned, first in her tears, then in her bitterness, now in her alcohol. And my father, he’d run away. Though he’d never really left home, left us, he was long gone, all the time, even when he was present on the weekends. He was just a shell of the man he used to be.
At least they can still manage to pretend some of the time, I told myself consolingly. I thought of my new curfew, of how I’d been restricted from being out by myself after dark. Even though it was an inconvenience, in a perverse way, I cherished the limitation. It was a reminder of what life used to be like when they cared, what life was probably like for other kids whose parents were actually present and accounted for, emotionally anyway.
Pushing away from the door, I reminded myself that I would only have to deal with it for a little while longer, until I graduated and was forced to figure out what to do with about my future since my lifelong plans were basically a shambles.
But I’d think of something. I had to.
Feeling suddenly lost and melancholy, I switched off my lamp and curled up on my comforter, listening to the louder-than-normal night life that was singing outside my window. I fell asleep almost immediately, still exhausted and lethargic from my earlier tussle with Drew.
My eyes snapped open and the red clock numbers read 2:17. I was still curled up on my right side, facing the window, as the mattress dipped behind me. A cool hand slid over my hip, splaying across the skin of my belly where my flannel shirt lay parted.
I snuggled back into Bo. I didn’t need to turn around and look. For one thing, I knew from his body temperature that I wouldn’t be able to see him. He was freezing. I knew exactly who it was, though. Every cell in my body welcomed his closeness, all my senses opened up to take him in, like flower petals opening up for the sweet, wet kiss of the rain.
His cool lips grazed my neck, sending chill bumps down my left arm.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered against my skin.
My heart squeezed and my throat constricted with emotion. I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I knew. As I’d suspected, he hadn’t been gone very long when I’d awakened and he must have been close enough to hear my mother’s vicious barbs.
Tears burned my eyes as the pain of her comments came back in a flood.
That’s why I put them out of my mind. It hurt too bad to think about them.
“I know,” I said quietly. “But it still hurts.”
“I know,” he said.
A single tear somehow managed to escape my tightly squeezed lids.
Immediately, the cool air began to dry the wet trail it left on my cheek. When I felt composed enough to speak, I asked, “Drew?”
“Shh. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Though I wanted to know, I didn’t think I could handle one more thing on that night. Silently, I reached down and brought Bo’s fingers to my lips. His hands were so strong, so capable, but I knew that there were some things in life that even Bo couldn’t fix.
********
The next morning, Bo was already gone when my alarm went off. I hadn’t even been aware of him leaving. In fact, I hadn’t been aware of much of anything after I fell asleep in his arms. I reached out to the place beside me, the place where he’d lain. The comforter was icy where his body had been. He couldn’t have been gone very long.
Rolling over, I buried my face in the covers. They still smelled of him and, as always, my body reacted instantaneously with an ache that was becoming a part of my genetic makeup.
Thoughts of his sweet tenderness, his amazing ability to comfort me without saying a word brought me back to the myriad reasons for my distress. My mother, Izzy, Drew, Summer and Aisha, Trinity, some nebulous girl that floated out there on the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment to tear my life apart—all of it started buzzing around inside my head at once.