Fractured ( Fractured #1) (11 page)

Chapter
Nineteen

Dad, Bryan
, and Jimmy had their heads under the hood of Bryan’s Mustang. Dad was instructing the boys on how to make sure the engine was fine-tuned. Dad’s white tee shirt was spotted with grease, while Bryan was trying with great effort not to get dirty. Jimmy’s blue shirt was rolled up on the grass next to the driveway. I guess he knew that a car lesson with my dad could get messy.

Rob didn’t let go of my hand as we walked up to them.

Bryan was first to notice us. “Hey, man,” he nodded. “Thanks for not trying anything with my sister last night.” Dad gave Bryan a look that warned him not to say another word about it. My muscles tightened.

“Bryan, I’d never
—“

“Just kidding, man.” Bryan patted Rob on the back. They shook hands.

Dad looked up and shook Rob’s hand, too. That surprised me.
My muscles relaxed, but just a little. Jimmy was on the far side of the car. He never offered his hand, and he never took his eyes off me.

Dad and Bryan t
urned their attention back to the car. Jimmy did not. He watched as Rob walked me to the door.

“Thank you for another nice day,” I said.

“I should be thanking you,” he said. He dropped his gaze. “Mandy, before today, I didn’t think I could be happy again. Not for a while anyway. Not since my parents…” He looked up and his beautiful blue eyes were wide and clear. “Well, you make me see things differently. You are… easy to talk to. Understanding. Gentle.” My cheeks got warm. I think he realized that I wasn’t comfortable with the compliments. “Thank you for showing me your special place.”

“I’m glad to have someone to share it with. Now it truly is special.”

“I have to work
the late shift tonight, but would it be all right if I called you tomorrow when I wake up?”

“I’d like that.”
My heart beat faster.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He leaned over and kissed me long enough where I didn’t want to let go, but swift enough not to anger my father, who was trying hard not to stare at us from under the hood of the car.

It was difficult for either one of us to let go of the other’s hand, but we did. Rob walked back towards his car. He said good-bye to my father, Bryan, and Jimmy as he passed them. I was glad that Rob didn’t ask to come in. My mother was sprawled out on the couch, unconscious. Dillon was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her, watching cartoons. I put my things down and went through the usual motions of getting my mother upstairs. This time, I kept my eye on her hands, just in case she formed a fist and tried for another swing.

Surprisingly,
I got her to her bed and lifted her feet without a negative comment. Instead, as I pulled the blanket over her, she opened her eyes and said, “Your cheeks are pink.”

From where I stood
, I glanced at the mirror over her dresser. My cheeks were pink, still flush from when I kissed Rob.

“What were you doing with that boy?” Her words were slurred. “Were you having sex with him?”

“Mom!”

She couldn’t hold her head straight. An accusing finger pointed in my face. Because I was accustomed to her garbled speech, I understood every word she uttered.

“It’s not like that… I didn’t…”

“That’s how I got into trouble with you and your brother. Don’t make the same mistake, Mandy. You don’t want to be saddled with children and disappointment.” Then, as if she exhausted all of her strength, she
closed her eyes, and was out cold.

Well, gee Mom, don’t hold back how you really feel about us and how we ruined your life.
She had managed to take a whole day of euphoria and crush it with one intoxicated thought.

Once she was passed out in her bed, I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of tissues. I sat on
the edge of the bathtub. Did she really mean that? Were we the reason she was an alcoholic? I thought it was because she lost a child and Dillon was diagnosed with something none of us really understood.

Twenty minutes of crying later,
I shook the whole thing off. She didn’t know what she’s saying, I told myself
.
Then I went downstairs into the kitchen and yanked things from the cabinets for dinner.

Bryan walked into the house. “Hey, M
andy. Is it okay if Jimmy stays for dinner?”

I inhaled and held
it before I found my smile and turned around to face him. “Since when do you have to ask me if Jimmy can stay? You know he’s an extension of this family.”

“I just didn’t know if Rob was coming back.”

“No. He has to work tonight. And you know I have to make sure Mom is on her best behavior before I ask him in.”

He saw my puffy eyes and knew that I must have just had an unpleasant experience with our mother. He nodded. “So that’s why you didn’t invite him in?”

“Uh-huh. I didn’t know what kind of a mood Mom was in.”

Another nod told me that I didn’t have to explain. “If
you get serious about him, Mandy, you have to tell him about her. There are only so many times he’s going to believe your mother isn’t feeling well.” He was right. He reached into the refrigerator, grabbed three bottles of water, and walked back out to the driveway.

Bryan’s words
seeped into my head. I couldn’t hide my mother’s condition forever. What if he found out from someone else? I was sure most of the people in our town knew about her ‘condition,’ particularly Mr. Villis, the liquor store owner. Why else would my father be buying so many bottles of alcohol every week? I wondered if Rob would stop liking me if he knew, and whether he would he understand why I kept it from him. Would he tell me he didn’t want to see me anymore? I had to tell him the truth before I got too attached to him. That way it wouldn’t hurt so much when he dumped me. But I was already too attached to him. I mean, I was pretty sure I loved him. How could that have happened after only a few days?

Jimmy helped clear the dinner dishes and offered to wash them.

“That’s okay, Jimmy. Thanks, anyway,” I said.

“At least let me dry,” he said. Dad, Bryan, and Dillon went into the living room to watch television. Jimmy didn’t wait for an answer. He flipped his blonde stringy hair back with his ha
nd, picked up a dishtowel, and started to dry and stack the dishes on the table.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile. He smiled back.

I didn’t have to work hard around Jimmy. He never treated me as if I were a burden, the way Bryan sometimes did. And he didn’t talk to me as if I were a little girl, like Dad did. He didn’t need me to do things for him the way Dillon did, and he certainly didn’t embarrass or berate me like Mom. He never complained about what I wanted to talk about, or a television show I wanted to watch, or do what I wanted to do. Jimmy didn’t care if I tagged along, and he always offered to help clean up after he stayed for a meal. Yeah, it was easy to be around Jimmy.

“So, you like
that guy Rob, huh?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“You know his parents were killed in a fire.”

“He told me. Awful, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” He picked up a glass and wrapped the towel around it. “Do they know who did it?”

“Rob said the insurance company and the police were still investigating
, but they’re pretty sure it was accidental.”

Jimmy was quiet for a moment. The dishtowel stopped moving. “I heard the police suspect
arson.”

I looked up from the sink. “
Really? Who would do that?” He nodded. “Why would anyone set fire to his house?” I turned, giving Jimmy my full attention.

He shrugged. “I heard he has a lot of money.”

“So, what? You think he set fire to his house and killed his parents for their money? Who’s telling you these lies, Jimmy?” Anger built up inside of me. I turned back toward the soapy water and continued washing. Without looking at Jimmy again, I said, “I’ve got the rest. Go watch television with Bryan and my dad.”

He knew me well enough to know that the change in my tone meant
that I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He walked out of the kitchen. Was that what everyone in town thought? That Rob set fire to his house and killed his parents for their money?

Chapter Twenty

Once the dishes were put away and the kitchen was restored to order, I went up
to my room and shut the door. Grabbing one of the throw pillows from my bed, I hugged it as I laid back against the headboard. I thought about my wonderful weekend. Suddenly, I wished I had a girlfriend to call to share it with. Remembering my last friend, Meredith, I thought about when she moved away at the start of high school. She had picked up the pieces after Jennifer dumped me in the first grade. We shared everything. Happily, I remembered that our parents called us M&Ms.

Her calls and letters stopped about a year ago, when she started dating Mike. I thought she’d start calling again when they broke up, but the letter her mother sent every Christmas updating us on family events told us she was now dating a boy named Shaun.
Apparently, they were very serious, and Meredith’s mother hoped that they would get married in the future. I guess Meredith was too busy for me now.

She
would have relished in every detail about Rob. Mostly, she’d be happy that I had finally found a boyfriend, too. Was he my boyfriend? Was I jumping to conclusions? It wasn’t as if I had any experience with this to know. Not having a friend made it harder to understand. I couldn’t ask Mom. She didn’t even know what day it was, and I certainly couldn’t talk to Dad about it. I don’t think Bryan would even care. It was times like this that I wondered what a relationship with Cassandra would have been like had she lived.

Pulling my pillow close to my chest, I wished it were Rob in my arms. I
closed my eyes and thought of all of the wonderful moments I had during the day. Happiness washed over me, then nothing.

When my alarm clock woke me up, my neck was sore. I was still in my clothes
, and the pillow I had clutched all night was on the floor. Swollen raindrops tapped against my window. The wind made the cherry blossoms dance wildly on the tree outside. Through the glass, I could see that grey clouds had blanketed the sky. I guessed I wouldn’t be going to the creek today.

After changing my clothes and taking care of the regular morning necessities, I walked down to the kitchen. As I passed the living room, I saw Jimmy stretched out on the couch.
Last night’s ballgame must have had extra innings. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be found on our couch. In fact, Jimmy was at our house so often, I was surprised he didn’t have his own room. His oversized body was squeezed between the armrests, and his bulk barely fit on the cushions. I pulled the blanket up around his shoulders. He nestled under for its warmth.

The kitchen didn’t look the way I had left it. Dirty glasses lined the sink.
A half-eaten bag of chips lay open on the counter. Further investigation revealed the top of the cookie jar askew, which caused the contents to become stale from the long night of exposure. Why couldn’t they just take care of stuff? Did I have to do everything for them?

Turning to
scoop up the crumbs that littered the counter for the trash, I spied Dillon in the doorway.

“Manny,
bekfast.” He had actually matched his clothes.

“Yes, Dillon. Come sit at the table. I’ll make you breakfast.” As he walked toward the table
, I noticed his shoelaces were untied. “Dillon, you have to tie your laces. Let me show you.” He sat on the chair, and I went through the instructions slowly to make sure he was absorbing them. “Okay?” I asked when I was done with both shoes, but he just stared out into his happy place.

I made him his breakfast and watched as he got on the school bus. The matron waved in her usual manner before they pulled away. When I walked back to the kitchen, Dad was pouring a cup of coffee from the pot I had just brewed.

“What’s on your agenda today?” he asked, before taking a careful sip of the steaming brown liquid.

I shrugged. “
Dunno. It’s raining, so I can’t go to the creek.”

“What about Rob?” He asked with caution, knowing to be careful with th
is topic. I’m sure he didn’t want me to shut him out. Then he wouldn’t be able to keep a parental eye on me. This was new territory for him, too. There was definitely a double standard for what mistakes dads wanted their daughters to avoid, compared to the achievements they wanted their sons to accrue. This seemed especially the case when it involved teenagers of the opposite sex.

“He worked last night, so he’s probably still sleeping.”

“Are you two… are you…?”

“Are we dating?” I said it for him. I knew this was difficult enough.

“Yeah. Are you dating?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. I mean, we had a very nice evening when we went out on Saturday, and yesterday was wonderful.” Dad’s eyebrows lifted. “Relax, Dad. We hung out by the creek and talked. We were getting to know each other better.”

“Mandy, this isn’t easy for me,” he said with sincerity, before he slurped at the top of his coffee mug.

“It’s not easy for me either, Dad. I’ve never had a boy like me before. I’m learning as I go.”

His face morphed into that “serious dad” expression he wore before he gave a speech. “I just don’t want you to make any mistakes that you’ll regret later on. And…” he lowered the coffee mug and gave me an even more serious stare, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I thought about the
slashing remark my mother made in her drunken stupor the previous day. I wasn’t like her.
“Dad, you have to let me make my own discoveries. I’m going to make mistakes, and I’ll have to live with them.” Who sounded like the parent now?

“I know, Mandy.” He walked to the refrigerator. “It’s just
, you’re my little girl.” He pulled out the bagged lunch I had made him last night and headed for the front door.

“I’m not little
anymore, Dad. I’ve grown up.” I knew he loved me, but for the past five years, he’d always kept our interactions to the basics. It made me wonder if he was upset that he didn’t have three sons instead of two. Did he blame me for ruining his life, too?

As the door closed behind him
, Bryan ran down the stairs. He pushed down on Jimmy, who yelped as he was forced to wake.

“Get up, we have to be at work for the morning shift.”

Jimmy’s hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in years. As he sat up, blond strands flew out in every direction. A small crease ran across his face. He must have been leaning on the seam of the cushion. Sitting all the way up, he looked around the room for a moment, orienting himself to where he was, and then edged his way to the bathroom. Bryan grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup of coffee. He liked his the same way Dad did—black. I poured a cup for Jimmy and left it on the table, along with the milk and sugar. I knew how he liked it, but let him make his own. It was enough that I cooked for him on a regular basis; I didn’t have to make his coffee for him too.

Bryan leaned his back against the sink as he gulped his coffee down.
Once out of the bathroom, Jimmy took a seat at the table. He added the milk and sugar, before taking a small sip of the hot brew.

“We’ll stop by your house so you can change before we head over to w
ork,” Bryan said. Jimmy nodded. “I’ll meet you in the car.” Bryan placed his dirty cup in the sink. Then he was out the door.

“Don’t rush,” I told Jimmy. “Let him wait. He can’t expect you to drop everything for him.”

Jimmy looked up at me and smirked. “Why? He expects you to drop everything you’re doing.” He took three more small sips of his coffee, placed the mug in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen, stopping before crossing the threshold. “Thanks for the coffee, Mandy,” he called out, without turning to look at me.

With everyone out of the
house and the rain coming down, I straightened each room, including a quick wipe down of the bathrooms. At eleven o’clock, I decided my project for the day was going to be Mom. I wasn’t sure what kind of mood she’d be in, so I gave myself a short pep talk as I climbed the stairs.
You can do this, Mandy. You have to try at least.
Maybe if she moves around a bit… When I reached the top step, I still wasn’t convinced I was doing the right thing. Before opening her door, I squared my shoulders, and took a deep breath.
What am I getting myself into?
I shook it off.
No, no. You can do this, Mandy.

The
air was thick. I walked straight to the window and pulled the shades up. Although the daylight from outside wasn’t bright and sunny as I had hoped, there was more light coming into the room than Mom would have liked. Fresh air was desperately needed to help get rid of the stench of alcohol. I opened the window just enough to help dissolve the strong odor.

Circling the bed, I decided I was going with the tough-love approach.
I pulled the blankets off her. “C’mon, Mom. Time to get up.”

In a
groggy voice, she spoke. “Go away.”

“No, Mom. It’s time to get up. We’re going to sit in the living room and watch stupid talk shows, and maybe do the word search from the paper.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all I had. I pulled her arm to get her to sit
up. We shuffled to the bathroom. So far, she was still quiet. I helped her brush her hair and teeth, and assisted with getting a clean t-shirt, socks, and sweatpants on her. She smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as if she was a newborn kitten, looking for its mother to nurse from.

“There’s coffee downstairs,” I said
, even though I knew that wasn’t what she wanted.

With one arm around her waist, we took one step at a time until
we made it downstairs. After I lowered her into a kitchen chair, I poured her a cup of coffee and placed it in front of her. She stared into space, like Dillon usually did. I positioned her hands on either side of the mug so that the warmth would penetrate her skin. “Mom, drink the coffee.” With robotic movements, she did as she was instructed. Her arms became more fluid. I piled raspberry jam onto two pieces of toast. She attempted small bites, but left the eggs on the plate.

Twenty minutes later, I moved her to the couch and sat next to her. After channel surfing for fifteen minutes, I found a talk show. The guest was a comedian. Mom started to laugh at the backhanded comments he made to the host. We laughed through several minutes. I didn’t turn to look at her because I was
afraid her mood would swing in the opposite direction. When the show was over, I left it on the station. We watched a game show and “won” some prizes. At one o’clock, I made sandwiches for lunch. Mom was more lucid and mobile. When she needed to use the bathroom, I made the excuse that I had to put more toilet paper in first, just so I could check to make sure there were no bottles hidden anywhere. If she knew what I was up to, she didn’t say anything about it.

The rest of the afternoon
, we sat on the living room floor like girlfriends do at a sleepover. We talked about things that ‘regular’
moms do with their daughters.

“Mandy, remember when you and Bryan were five and got bicycles for Christmas? You wanted to ride them on the sidewalk. Daddy had to shovel a path so you could ride.” She laughed at the memory.

Yeah, that’s when it was
expected
that Dad treat me like a five-year-old. He didn’t care if I had my own ride back then.

S
he jumped to another memory and reminisced about the time Bryan and I were nine. “You didn’t want to go into Cousin Karen’s pool. You said you saw the Loch Ness Monster.” She laughed. “Bryan believed you. Neither one of you went in.”

I laughed
, too. It seemed ridiculous now, but I remembered how scared we were back then. Mom stopped laughing. Her face was somber.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Water pooled in her eyes. “Nothing. I just thought of when you were little.” She snapped to another memory. “Remember the time you and Meredith dressed up in those fancy dresses from my closet? It took me a week to get the lipstick off your teddy bear.” She looked down. Suddenly, I felt guilty about wearing one of her dresses on my date with Rob. “Then Meredith moved away and you locked yourself in your room. I thought we’d have to take you for therapy. I certainly understood how depressed you felt when that happened.”

I didn’t have the words to answer. Sure
, I was sad about losing Meredith, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as finding out that Dillon was autistic, or losing a child. I changed the subject to one of our birthday celebrations. “Say, remember the year Bryan thought that both cakes were for him? And all of the presents?” That changed her mood. Soon we were laughing again.

We sat on the floor sharing more
collected memories. She was so normal, and most importantly, she was alcohol-free for several hours. Her hands shook now as she sipped at her fourth cup of coffee, but I didn’t mention it. She was sober, even for just a little while.

I knew I might not get another chance, so I decided to tell her about Rob. “Mom, I met a boy.
You saw him through the window the other day.” Her eyes widened. I took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn’t say the same mean things she did before. “Now, don’t get crazy. His name is Rob. He’s amazing.” I tried to harness my heart as I told her about him.