Kismet (9 page)

In the twenty minutes that has passed since my Mom called Parker, the kitchen has become a hub of excitement and confusion. I’m still sitting on the hallway floor. In all the confusion I think I’ve been forgotten. But that’s fine, because I’m really good with being alone. It’s soothing for me to be lonely. That, and listening to all the conversation gives me something else to focus on besides myself. Tommy and Pop eventually join Mom and Stevenson in the kitchen, waiting for Parker. Each of them throw their two cents in as to how this should go down. Tommy insists that he should go with us, saying that Parker can’t handle the responsibility. I appreciate that he’s still trying to look out for my best interests, but the fact of the matter is that Tommy doesn’t know the half of what I need.

He goes round with Mom and Pop, but Stevenson stops him. “We need to follow her lead, Tommy.”

“I just don’t think her going there with him is the best option right now!” Tommy yells.

“Now, I respect your concern, Tommy, and we all appreciate that you want the best for your sister. However, if Katie wants to go alone with Parker then that is what we give her. She needs to be in control of her own recovery. We need to remember that this isn’t about us. She’s an adult, she can make her own choices.”

Tommy lets out a sarcastic laugh just before I hear the screen door fling open, the springs creaking in response, and then quickly slamming shut. “What the hell is going on?” Parker asks anxiously.

Quickly, Stevenson fills Parker in on my request. He adds that Parker shouldn’t feel pressured, especially if he’s not comfortable with the situation, but that he needs to understand how huge this could be for my treatment.

“Why me?” he questions.

“I dunno, Parker,” Tommy barks. “
Why
you?”

There’s a brief, awkward silence before Stevenson clears his throat and continues to speak. “Obviously Katie knows you well enough to know that you’ll be there for her, while allowing her enough independence to cope with it on her own terms. She’s trusting you,” Stevenson says without emotion.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he mutters. Experience tells me that he’s most likely running his hands through his hair. He always does when he’s nervous.

A fist slams against the table, making me jump out of my skin. “You’re right, you can’t!”

“Tommy!” Mom scolds.

A few more moments of awkward silence pass. I can only imagine the looks that are being thrown in that kitchen. The tension is surely raising a few questions in everyone’s mind. “I just don’t think this is the best idea,” Tommy speaks quietly. “You’re in over your head, Park.”

“We’ve been here before, Tommy,” Parker reminds him.

“Exactly.”

“If it helps, I’ll give her some anti-anxiety medication before you leave,” Stevenson says, “and you can take these.” There is a faint rattling, which I can only assume is a pill bottle being passed over. “Only give her one if you think it’s
absolutely
necessary.”

On that note, it’s time for me to make my presence known. I’m tired of feeling like a child, listening to people talk about what is best for me. I walk into the kitchen, and my eyes lock upon Parker. He’s looking at the floor, obviously lost in his own thoughts. I wonder what he’s thinking.

It takes him a minute to register my presence, but eventually his eyes meet mine. I plead without words. He knows he owes it to me. Everything that happened was because of him, and deep down he knows it too.

Parker studies the bottle in his hand. “All right,” he says shoving the pills into his pocket, before looking back at me. “You ready, kiddo?”

I nod. My family take turns giving me hugs and sharing words of encouragement before I leave. It hits me that I’m slowly becoming more comfortable with skin-on-skin contact, and I no longer feel the urge to crawl away from them when they touch me.

“I’ll stay here with your parents until you get back, Katie.” Dr. Stevenson places a pill in my hand and without hesitation I pop it in my mouth and swallow it dry. “I’m here for you,” he promises.

Parker stands next to the door, waiting for me. He looks nervous, which is uncharacteristic for him. I’ve never known him to be lacking confidence or unsure of himself. Ever. It was always part of the allure of Parker McKenzie—he was everything I wasn’t. Growing up, I wasn’t the only one to appreciate it either. The beautiful girls were always chasing him. I remember going to baseball games and sitting behind the older girls, and they would all ogle over Parker and Tommy, but especially Parker. For just a moment, I forget everything that’s gone on in my life, and I find myself reveling in his beauty again.

He reaches his hand out to me, urging me to come since I seemingly have become stuck to the kitchen floor. Without even thinking twice, I place my hand into his as I step toward the screen door. His hands are rough, just like I always remembered them. Calloused from manual labor and working on cars. We walk to the car hand in hand and I can’t believe how calm I am. Is it the result of being with Parker? Or is it just the medication Stevenson gave me going into effect already?

Parker opens the door of his Mustang for me. “It’s been a while since we went joyriding, huh, kiddo?” he smirks.

I find myself smiling as I slide into the passenger seat, and even though I’m in a car again, I feel no anxiety because I know I’m safe. But once again, I’m not sure if it’s the drugs, or the effects of Parker. In a weak attempt to gain control of myself, I shake my head. I feel extremely relaxed, and I shouldn’t. Everyone I loved is dead… and it was my fault. I need to remember that.

The Mustang kicks to life and I jump. Parker looks at me tentatively. Smiling to myself I realize that he is so far out of his comfort zone—this is not Parker McKenzie territory. When push comes to shove, he doesn’t take care of anyone but himself. He always has. He is number one, and that is it.

But the emotions that I’m fighting back, the way I relax in his presence, the way the simplest of his touches makes me feel… they all point to one thing.

Without a doubt, I am still in love with Parker McKenzie.

I growl at myself.

Literally, growl.

Damn medication, making me all soft.

Parker looks at me quizzically, obviously taken aback by the noises coming from my mouth. I hate this medication that Stevenson has given me. It’s knocked down walls that have been set up for a reason. The medication that I got in the hospital was so much better. I’d much rather be knocked out than to have to deal with things that I have fought hard to lock away.

We drive in silence for a while before Parker finally turns on the radio. Classic rock blares through the speakers and his thumbs tap the beat on the steering wheel. He keeps giving me sideways glances, obviously checking on my mental state. But the closer we get to the cemetery, the calmer I feel. It feels so wrong and it’s driving me crazy. I begin to doze off. Probably another side effect of this damned medication.

Sixteen-year-old me is having the time of her life, sitting “bitch” as the boys call it, in Tommy’s truck. Parker is driving Tommy and I around the back dirt roads, making sure we hit every mud puddle he sees. I squeal every time he spots one and presses on the gas. Tommy drops his beer and Parker laughs, smacking my leg for me to get a look. “Fuck!” Tommy yells. “Mom and Pop are going to smell that and kick my ass, again.”

“Stop drinking in the truck,” I scold, turning the music down.

“Yeah,” Parker starts, “listen to your sister, she’s smarter than the both of us combined.” He turns to me and winks, and my heart betrays me by fluttering in my chest. I flush and Parker smiles. Damn me, I knew better than to go joyriding with Parker McKenzie.

A light tapping on my leg gets my attention. “Hey, kiddo, we’re here,” Parker purrs. That seemed like the fastest ride into the city ever, until I realize that I must have fallen asleep. I look around me, noticing the lush green grass and the beautiful lines of marble headstones. We’re really here. My heart jumps into my throat and I want to cry, but I can’t.

“Listen, Katie,” Parker interrupts my thoughts. “I don’t know what you want me to do here, I’ll do whatever, but you’ve got to let me know what you want from me.”

Why is he here? What do I want from him? I’m not really sure myself. Up to this point, I’ve told myself that he was just the first person to pop into my head when asked who I wanted to go with me. It was as simple as that. No further explanation needed. But I know I’ve been lying to myself.

Parker is the only person who will do what I want. He’ll leave me alone, because that’s what he does best.

I look into Parker’s eyes. He’s obviously longing for me to give him something, but how can I help him when I can’t even help myself. I’ve made a mess of my life and I need to deal with the repercussions on my own.

The deep sigh alerts me to the fact that he’s realized that I’m not going to be much help to him. “I brought you something,” he says, pushing himself back with his legs, allowing himself room to dig into his jean pocket. After a moment he pulls out what appears to be a black string and dangles it between his thumb and forefinger. Three silver squares catch the remaining sunlight and I suck in a hasty breath, snatching it from him. Cradling it in my hands I look down at that all too familiar bracelet.

I revel in amazement. I completely forgot about this bracelet—the one that Parker gave me when I was six, during the first time episode of anxiety and mutism. I’d just started school and had completely shut down. He gave it to me in the hope that it would give me the strength I needed. He even took the time to pick out the sterling silver squares with the letters K, T and P on them.

“I thought maybe if you knew that Tommy and I were always with you then you might feel a little stronger and you might start talking again,” he says as he ties the string around my wrist.

I smile as he fumbles with the strings. “Dad made me change a lot of oil so that I could buy this for you, Katie. I hope you like it.”

I want to tell him I love it but I can’t muster the strength, even though he’s tried to give me all he can. Instead, I thank him the only way I know how. Once he’s finished tying it, I throw my arms around him and hold on tight.

I vowed that day to never let him go. But I had, and my world went to shit because of it. He takes the bracelet from my hand and ties it around my wrist while I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. “When I got the call, I dug around for it,” he explains. My face flushes with embarrassment as I remember throwing it in his face not so long ago. “I thought maybe you could use a little strength today.”

In a move that surprises us both, I lean over and kiss his cheek. I can’t dwell on it though. I didn’t come here to think about us, and all the times we had in the past. I came here to say good-bye to my family. Gathering my thoughts, I shake my head clear. I appreciate that Parker is trying, but it’s a little too late for me.

I make a move for the car door but he grabs my hand, preventing me from leaving. A pained expression is painted across his face. “Katie, you’ve gotta start by making every moment count.”

My breath catches in my throat. Parker is dredging up the past, and it brings too many feelings with it, but I know he’s right. I’m letting time slip by, and I haven’t really thought about it. The clock keeps ticking, but I’m stuck in place.

Forcing a smile, I work up the courage to move again. Getting out of the car, I start walking toward the plots that I know belong to them. The car door slams behind me and I turn and signal with my hands for Parker to stay put. He accepts my request without argument and I’m reminded of why I wanted him to come with me. My family would have never allowed me this space. They would have insisted on going to the graves with me, not trusting me to do it alone. But Parker believes in me, and instead of following me he leans up against his old Mustang, smiling in my direction.

His confidence in me reassures me that I can do this on my own and I start walking toward them again.

Casting a cursory glance around, I see the three headstones immediately. The fresh brown dirt is obvious amongst the surrounding greenery. The closer I get, the more details I notice. The three stones are of corresponding sizes: Michael’s is the biggest and sits the middle, the two smaller ones either side signifying my angelic babies. A warm tear slides slowly down my face as I begin to make out the inscriptions on the stones. Since I’d been unable to make any decisions, my in-laws had taken care of everything. They tried to talk to me about things one time, only to leave and not return after I spent an afternoon screaming hysterically at them. I haven’t seen them since. I know I need to apologize for my behavior… I just don’t know when, or how, I will do it.

I reach their plot and fall to my knees in front of the headstones. Focusing through the blurry vision caused by the tears pooling in my eyes is difficult, but I take my time and carefully inspect each stone’s writing.

Zoe Baker

Beloved Daughter and Granddaughter

Shine On

That is perfect for Zoe. She could shine her light on anyone. She was amazingly charismatic. Everywhere she went, people fell in love with her—just like her father. I swallow my sadness and continue reading.

Michael Baker

Loving Father and Husband

Smile Always

That was one of the things I loved about Michael. He reminded me of Tommy in that way. Always smiling. In fact, he’d been smiling the first time I laid eyes on him, when I’d needed a little light in my life.

Baby Boy Baker

Taken Too Soon

My breath hitches reading the last one. Again I’m guilt-stricken. The pain in my chest increases tenfold, and I can’t breathe. They had to bury him without a name because I had been too lost in my own pain to name him. I hadn’t even known he was a boy until a few hours ago. I was a poor excuse of a person, but even more so as a mother.