Family Ties (30 page)

I snicker and turn away.

He squeezes my hand, letting me know he heard. “Laughing at me?”

“I’m laughing next to you,” I quip, then glance at Mom. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Alana, we’ll see you tomorrow,” she says on their way to the door.

Jason stares at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Laughing at my consideration?”

“Laughing because you forgot I don’t have a curfew anymore.” 

“Forgive me for being forgetful.” The corners of his mouth curl up, his eyes spark, and he presses his lips to my hand, acknowledging his understanding of my levity.

“I could forgive you for anything, J.”

“Well, I’ve done some stupid things in my time.”

“Yes, you have.”

“You didn’t have to agree,” he says, the delicate grin still on display, able to break at any moment.

“Was there something you wanted to do?”

“Not really. I just wasn’t ready to let go of you yet.” 

“Movie marathon? Board games?” 

“Movies? I need a distraction.”

I say nothing about him missing the entire movie Arissa turned on.

We head back to the TV room and Jason grabs the remote. He sits against the arm of the sofa, stretching his leg out. I lean back against him as he uses the remote to turn on the TV, switching to the digital storage for their DVD catalog.

He wraps his arm around me. “What would my Parker like to watch?”

Caretaker mode: on.

“Something with action.” If he wants a distraction, action will give him the reprieve he wants. Drama would pull him further in. RomCom would toy with his heavy heartstrings.  

“How about a good old ‘I’ll be back’ marathon?” he asks, doing his best impersonation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I snigger. “Sure.”

He clicks a few buttons, then sets the remote on the floor as the movie starts. “I smell popcorn,” he says and twists his head to look out the door.

Alana joins us with a bowl of popcorn and glasses of lemonade on a TV tray, setting it down between the sofa and the recliner next to us. She changed into a large, worn t-shirt and flannel pants.

“You didn’t have to do that, Mom.”

“I wanted popcorn. If you two want some, help yourself,” she says, settling into the recliner.

“Thanks, Alana.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Ooh, Arnold!”

I know she’ll wait to cry again behind closed doors. Same with Jason. I know they need this though. It’s not the same, but not so long ago my life was one big train that ran into another one.

Sometimes, stepping away from the train wreck you’ve been dealing with all day keeps you from shattering. Dipping into bits of normalcy so you don’t get lost in the wreckage. Accepting the light people offer to keep darkness from taking over. Allowing you to forget, briefly, how your life was just smashed into smithereens.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

We fall asleep watching movies and move to Jason’s room upon waking in the middle of the night, leaving the door open.

The smoky aroma of cooking bacon rouses me and taunts my growling stomach.

My arm is draped over Jason’s chest as he lies on his back. He strokes my face without opening his eyes.

“Have you been awake long?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Because I was feeling peaceful and happy and I knew it wouldn’t last once you were awake. It would mean yesterday was real.” 

“I’m sorry, J.” I tip my head up. “I wish I could take the pain away for you.”

He locks onto my gaze. “You make it easier to handle.”

“Breakfast is ready,” Alana says from the door.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thanks, Alana.” I stretch and pull the blanket off.

We sit at the dining room table with Alana eating breakfast. “Sara, I talked to Rose. She’s going to be here soon and is bringing you a change of clothes and your toothbrush. You can shower here if you want.”

“Do you need me to help with anything?” I ask.

“No, honey. Rose and Shelly are going to help me. Mike and I did all the planning the first time around. It’s the execution of it now. You two go do what you want today, but weekly cookout is at the Riven’s tonight.” 

“Do you want to go to the lake?” he asks me.

“Fishing?”

“Picnic.” He grins.

“Okay.” 

“I’ll make you guys something,” Alana offers.

“I’ll do it while Sara is in the shower, Mom,” Jason says.

Papers are spread across the dining room table when I join Mom and Alana after my shower.

“Thanks again, Mom,” I say, taking the seat next to her.

“You’re welcome, sweetie.” 

“And sorry I didn’t call.”

“Sara, we’ve talked about this. You’re an adult. I’m not going tell you what you can and can’t do. And don’t try to measure your relationship against everyone else’s. It will never be the same.”

“Amen,” Alana adds.

“Nothing happened,” I say, folding my arms on the table.

“I know,” Mom says. “Alana said his door was open. Did you want something to happen?” 

“Hi, Rose,” Jason says, kissing us on our cheeks in turn, unaware of the conversation he walked in on. “Are you ready?” he asks me.

“Can I have a minute or ten with Mom?”

He eyes me with curiosity. “I’ll load the car and wait for you outside.” He grabs the cooler in the kitchen and heads out the front door.

I look back at Mom. “If I go by what I feel in the moment, yes, part of me does. ”

“Do what you feel is right for you. We had the talk long before you ever came to live with us.”

“I just don’t know sometimes, Mom. My body does crazy things when we’re together and I have no idea what it is.”

“Sweetie, why didn’t you say anything?”

I shrug my shoulders.

“It’s perfectly natural,” she assures me. “It’s your hormones responding to Jason with desire.”

“That explains it. Doesn’t explain seeing Simon’s face.”

“That would be the trauma,” Alana clarifies.

I always forget she knows more than she lets on because of her work. She never uses her career to preach to me about dealing with my trauma. She just acts like a mom, and I love that about her.

“He asked me to go back to L.A. with him.” 

Alana takes in a sharp breath and I grasp her hand across the table. “I just told I’d think about it. He didn’t ask because of Mike, though. The first time was before school started.” 

“He never mentioned it,” Alana says, almost whispering.

“Probably because I turned him down. He’s done so much for me, but I’m still living day to day and he’s working on his future.”

She covers my hand with her other hand, her eyes glistening. “You
are
part of his future, Sara. You’ve become the daughter I never had. If you and Jason decide to move in together, I’ll support you. I know Mike would have. I’m just coming to terms with him not being my little boy anymore.” 

I give her hand a light squeeze. “That means a lot to me, Alana.” 

Jason sits on the trunk of his car watching the kids across the street play Tag when I join him.

“What’s it like?” I ask him.

“What’s what like?” he asks, bewildered.

“Playing Tag.”

“You never got to play Tag either?”

“Never had anyone to play with.”

“Well,” he jumps off the trunk, “it goes something like…
run
!” he shouts at me.

I startle, then run into the yard. He chases after me, running in winding patterns with the sun beating down on us.

I laugh with him, feeling carefree.

He wraps his arms around my waist from behind and hauls me up, spinning us around. I squeal with delight, not caring that the neighbor kids stopped their own game of Tag to watch us.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

Alana hosts a small memorial at the house on Wednesday. Some family and friends attend, but don’t stay long. My family, the Rivens, and Hunter help Jason and Alana clean up after the last guest leaves. Afterward, we sit on the back patio sipping on Alana’s homemade lemonade. 

“We haven’t seen or heard from any of them since Mike got sick again,” Alana states flatly.

“Not even his family?” Felix asks.

“Not even his family,” she responds.

“That’s harsh,” Damian says, shocked.

“So harsh,” Hunter says.

“I agree,” Dad chimes in.

“I’m thankful for all of you,” Jason states. “You’ve been here week in and week out for over a year and showed immense love for my dad. More love than his family did. I’m forever grateful for that.” 

“I second Jason,” Alana adds. “He was so happy to socialize again. I believe he wouldn’t have held on so long if it hadn’t been for all of you.” 

“To Mike,” Felix toasts, raising his glass.

“To Mike,” we chorus.

While everyone gets ready to leave, I walk Hunter to the door and we hug each other tight. “Thanks for being here and helping out,” I say, still wrapped up in him.

“I’ve always liked Jason. I’m glad becoming your friend reconnected me with him, even if you and I are closer.” He pecks my cheek and releases me.

Arissa stops and gives us the hypercritical attitude she always uses when we’re too close for her comfort. “Kissing, you two? Seriously? At Mike’s memorial with Jason in the next room.”

“On the fucking cheek, Riss. Would you stop it already?”

“What does she need to stop?” Dad asks, joining us at the door.

Arissa glares at me for a beat. “Nothing, Dad. Let’s go.” She walks out.

Dad locks eyes with me. “What’s going on with you and your sister?”

“She doesn’t like that Hunter and I are as close as we are,” I answer. We never told Mom and Dad about our fights, so they only knew we argued, not why.

“Why is that a problem?” Mom asks, shouldering her purse.

“You’ll have to ask her.”

Mom’s eyes flicker to Hunter. “You’ve been a good friend to Sara, especially when she was alone. I hope that’s all there is to this.”

“Mom!”

Hunter presses his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Sara.”

I stare at him, my mouth opening wide in shock. “No, it’s not okay. How can you say that?”

“She’s looking out for you like Tibby never did.”

“I don’t care.”

“Sweetheart,” Dad says, taking my hand. “Are you two just friends?”

“Yes,” I answer emphatically.

“Good. That’s it, then.” He kisses my forehead while Mom’s jaw drops.

“Andrew!”

“We can talk about it in the car, Rose. But we both trust our daughter, right?”

“Yes, bu-”

“Then let’s go. Our other daughter is waiting.” He pulls her out the door.

“I-”

Hunter places his finger on my lips and shakes his head. “It’s not you or me. It’s them. Whatever Arissa’s problem is, she has to deal with it. Same with your mom. So don’t even try to apologize for them.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

I close the door behind him, then join Jason and Alana in the kitchen to clean the last of the dishes.

Jason and I sit on the front porch swing holding hands, pressed into each other.

“What happened when everyone was leaving?” he asks.

“Arissa wasn’t happy about Hunter giving me a kiss on the cheek and Mom gave him a little piece of her mind.”

“Just a little?” His cheek tenses into my head from the grin I know is on his face.

“Yeah. Dad didn’t let her finish.”

He chuckles. “I bet that went over well.”

“As well as mixing oil and water.”

“Should I talk to Arissa again along with your mom?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I’m driving back to school on Sunday,” he informs me.

I don’t respond, unsure where he is taking this.

“I still don’t have a plan for you,” he whispers.

“I didn’t expect you to come up with a plan while you were helping put everything together for today.”

“But I wanted you to come with me.” Disappointment weighs down his words.

I hate how it makes him feel, but my answer is about me. “I know you do. I would love to if we can figure everything out first. Just because I don’t go with you now, doesn’t mean I won’t ever go.”

He stares at his lap. The faucet of tears creaking from the slow turn.

I rest my head on his shoulder. “We can plan while you’re away, you know. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He lays his head on mine. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t leave the team, Parker. Practices start next week.” 

I run my thumb across the back of his hand. “You haven’t even started yet.”

“No, but I committed to the team. They’re counting on me. I have to at least stay the season.” Determined to be strong and selfless in his mourning. A different kind of stubborn. The kind where you break if you keep giving of yourself without taking a little in return.

“If that’s what you want to do, okay. But I think they’d understand given the circumstances.” 

He sighs.

“Does your coach even know?” I ask, sitting up and facing him.

“Yeah. I had to tell him so he knows why I’m not in my classes when they check with my professors,” he answers, returning my gaze.

“What did he say?”

“He said to take my time.”

“There’s your answer.”

He leans back and closes his eyes. “It’s overwhelming.”

“Then take a break. Either withdraw from classes or transfer to the community college and only take a class or two. You can’t do it all.” 

He rolls his head towards me and cracks his eyes open a fraction. “You did.”

“Out of necessity, J. It was do it or die. You saw the cast on my arm. You saw all those times I wasn’t myself. You saw him beating me just because I was trying to get away.

“Look at me now. I’m not trying to do it all. It’s one day at a time, all the time. I also had the benefit of therapy. You’re dealing with something much different.”

“It’s school and basketball.”

I shift on the swing to fully face him, causing a jarring rock. “I lived under what I thought was normal circumstances my entire life. There isn’t a moment I remember that wasn’t about beatings, the rules, the chores, or my schoolwork.

“You’re dealing with living away from home with three other guys, studying, basketball, and losing your dad.” I tell him all this, knowing he’s beating himself up internally and I hate it. It must be what it was like for him all those times I did the same to myself. “Remember the conversation I had with our moms on Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Mom reminded me that I can’t compare our relationship to anyone else’s, because it’s not the same. It will never be like anyone else’s. You can’t compare yourself to me, either. It’s not the same and never will be.”

His fingers cross my face in a languid stroke, like he’s trying to memorize every detail. “I love that you’re so smart.”

“I don’t know about smart. Sam called it insight.”

Moist eyes gaze at me with adoration. “Smart. Insight. Whatever you want to call it. I still love it. I love you, Parker.” He moves in, his lips playing with mine.

No fire. No storm. No hunger. No hurry.

Just love. Sweet and innocent.