Pushing the Limits (26 page)

A laugh track played on the television, followed by a smartass comment by an actor. I waited for Beth’s shitty comeback. I readjusted my arm and caught her horrified expression. Isaiah smoothed hair away from her face and whispered something to her. She blinked back to life. “I’m sorry, Noah,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“… AND I PUT SOME information in there regarding the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, though the state will pick up the tab for any state school. They both have admirable architecture programs.” Mrs. Collins took her first breath in five minutes. The afternoon sun made her office into a prison hot box.

“Architecture?” I checked her eyes to see if she’d taken a recent hit.

“Architecture.” She smiled brightly.

I halfheartedly flipped through the mountain of brochures sitting on my lap. My father had been an architect. He designed the Habitat houses we’d built, even let me help him with it. I began to read the requirements for admission. What was I doing? I shut the folder.

“Echo trusts you,” I said. Not sure where that came from, but I needed to redirect myself from paths I couldn’t visit.

Her eyes softened, but she quickly put on her puppy game face. “Now, now, I already told you we won’t discuss Echo.” She swiveled back and forth in her chair. “I take that back. We can discuss anything that involves your relationship with Echo. I’ll be honest. I’m dying to know the details.”

I didn’t gossip, especially with my therapist. But Echo had looked exhausted today and I thought she may have fallen asleep during calculus. If her nightmares were that bad, what was life like for Jacob? “I’m not sure if I trust you. I have a shitty track record with adults.”

“Yes. You do. What’s troubling you, Noah?”

I ran a hand over my face and swallowed. What if I was wrong about her? She could destroy Jacob and also my chances of getting my family back together.

Mrs. Collins leaned her arms on the desk. “I swear to you, whatever you say will stay between us unless you tell me differently.”

“Do you believe in God?” I asked.

The question caught her off guard, but she answered, “I do.”

“Swear it to your God.”

“I swear to God that I’ll keep whatever you say private unless you direct me to do otherwise.”

Damn her to hell if she lied to me. “Jacob started the fire.”

She sucked in a breath and quickly regained her composure. “That’s not what the report from the fire marshal said. It was ruled an accident.”

“It was an accident. He didn’t mean to do it.” I kept eye contact. She had to believe me. Jacob would never intentionally hurt anyone.

She rubbed her eyes and shook her head as if trying to dispel what I had said. “Are you sure? Maybe he misunderstood something and only thinks he started it.”

“He started it. But it’s my fault.” The guilt of my decisions that night would hound me forever. “Instead of staying home to camp out with my brothers, I went to the county fair with some girl. At the time that date seemed so important, I …” The guilt
I tried so hard to bury underneath layers and layers of avoidance rose to the surface in the form of nausea. I fought to keep myself from dry heaving.

I shoved the emotion back down. This wasn’t about me. “It doesn’t matter.” I wiped my nose as anger began to seep into my bloodstream. If I couldn’t make it through this session without crying, I didn’t deserve my brothers. I cleared my throat.

“Mom told Jacob we’d do the campout the next Friday instead, but Jacob was pissed. After Mom and Dad put them to bed, Jacob woke Tyler up to make s’mores. Mom had a candle in the hall bathroom. I guess she left the matches out. Jacob lit the candle, they roasted marshmallows and then they went downstairs to sleep in the living room. Dad had set up the tent there before he knew I was going out.”

Mrs. Collins held her hands to her face as if she was praying. Her eyes glistened. “The fire started in the hall bathroom. They assumed one of your parents lit the candle and forgot to blow it out. They had no idea it was your brother.”

She knew the rest. My parents died in their bedroom and I came home to a roaring fire. “Jacob told me in the hospital and I promised never to tell anyone.” A promise I’d now failed to keep.

“Why?” Her exasperation was clear. “Why didn’t you tell someone? A social worker could have helped him.”

I welcomed the familiar edge of betrayal and anger. “They separated us. Who would you have trusted?” Now to complete my own betrayal. “Help my brother.”

She wiped her eyes. “I will. I promise.” She checked the clock, our therapy session over.

Having nothing left to say, I stood, shoved my arms in my
jacket and prepared myself to see Echo on the other side of that door.

“And Noah,” Mrs. Collins said. “I plan on helping you, too.” I didn’t want help. I didn’t need help, but I wasn’t going to argue with the woman who could save my brother. I opened the door to find Echo leaning against the counter and staring at the floor, her foot tapping uncontrollably.

Echo

Noah looked drained. His dark eyes were heavy and his shoulders slumped forward. He closed the door to Mrs. Collins’s office behind him and I met him halfway. “Are you okay?”

He gave me a halfhearted smile and pulled me into his body. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.” He clutched me tighter.

I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to reassure him by rubbing his back. “I’m sure you are.” He worried about Jacob and the possibility of trusting Mrs. Collins. “You’d never do anything to harm your brothers.”

“Thanks.” He kissed my hair and came close to squeezing the breath out of me. “I needed to hear that.”

We stood still for several seconds before he released his death grip. “I’m going to wander the hallway to give you time to set up in the sickroom, then I’ll sneak into her office.”

This sounded oddly like breaking and entering, moving our plans into the land of illegal. My stomach shifted uneasily. “I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t. I don’t want you to get caught
in her office.” Or get in trouble or get thrown out of school or go to jail.

Noah shot me his mischievous grin. “Have I ever mentioned you’re paranoid?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Several times.”

He kissed me as Mrs. Collins opened her door. “I’m pretending that I’m not seeing this.”

Noah winked at me before he left the office. Mrs. Collins grinned from ear to ear, wagging her imaginary tail. “You two are a very cute couple. Is he taking you to prom?”

What a very strange question. “I don’t know. Prom’s over a month away. Anyway, Noah doesn’t give me the impression he does dances.”

“He came to the Valentine’s Dance.” She walked past me and down the hallway of the main office to the sickroom, beckoning with her fingers for me to follow.

“I think that was a one-time deal.” I followed, reluctantly. “You know, I never agreed to this.”

She laughed—actually laughed at me. “Oh, Echo. You’re going to, if only on the principle that I’m asking you to do it. Your authority issues sure come in handy at times.”

I stood in the middle of the sickroom and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Doesn’t that break some sort of therapist code? You know, using my issues against me.”

“Possibly.” She gave me another smile. “Echo, this is Dr. Reed.”

A.K.A. the relaxation therapist Ashley had handpicked. The short man stood and shook my hand. “How are you doing today, Echo?”

Terrible. “Fine.”

“You’ll be more relaxed if you lie down,” said Mrs. Collins.

It took every ounce of strength to not immediately hop onto
the bed. My fingers drummed nervously in my pockets and my heart thundered. I’d show her.

She tilted her head. “I think Noah’s rubbing off on you. Now that you’ve proven to me you’re overcoming being a pushover, which I’ll take credit for, would you please lie down?”

Since she asked nicely and my heart surged like a heart attack … “Sure.”

Mrs. Collins dimmed the lights while I lay down on the uncomfortable, plastic-covered bed. A nice thick comforter lay at the end and a fluffy pillow at the head. I cocked an eyebrow.

“I wanted you to be comfortable.”

A couple of candles sat on the counter next to the sink. “Are you going to light candles?”

“I was.” She sighed. “But I’m not feeling very candlish right now. Did you tell your father that we could be a while? I don’t want him upset with me when you don’t come home at your normal time.”

Now I sighed. “Yes. Mr. Overbearing is fully aware and I’m under direct orders to call him the moment I’m done.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. Mr. Overbearing, hmmm? It definitely has a ring.” Mrs. Collins lost her playful tone as she spoke to Dr. Reed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Grabbing the comforter and fluffing the pillow, I snuggled down like a bear preparing for hibernation. If I was really going to do this, I might as well be warm.

Dr. Reed started off with some breathing and meditative exercises. After a while, my mind began to wander and his voice became this soothing, magnetic sound. “Tell me when you last felt safe, Echo. Really, really safe.”

“Noah makes me feel safe.”

I followed the smooth and reassuring voice as I imagined
Noah’s warm, strong body and sweet musky scent enveloping me in his safe protective bubble.

“Dig deep, Echo. Very, very deep.” He continued to calmly speak. I burrowed deeper into the covers and listened to his voice prod my mind to discover that one time I felt safe. Memories flipped like a slide show until I found one that warmed my heart.

“Aires made me feel safe.” He hid with me in the closet several times when my mother suffered from a particularly energized manic episode. By the time Aires found me, my father had taken care of my mother, but I refused to leave the closet. He’d stay with me and read stories by flashlight until I fell asleep.

“Ashley.” Funny, my voice sounded like my own and the world seemed far away. As a child, the sight of Ashley meant games, warm baths and dinners, normal bedtime stories and nighttime songs.

“Daddy.” My protector. My savior. He convinced my mother to take her medication and she did. For him. She loved him. He made us a family and during those dark moments when my mother’s illness threatened to rip us apart, he held me. Like in the hospital, when I couldn’t sleep, terrified of the first wave of nightmares, he lay with me in bed and held me, whispering over and over again how much he loved me.

The scene in my mind altered. I was safe. Somehow I knew that, but this … something was off … wrong …

Moonlight bathed my mother’s living room, reflecting off thousands of pieces of glass scattering the floor.

Warm liquid trickled down my arms and I fought to breathe through the sobs of pain. Burning pain. Tearing pain. Throbbing pain. Every muscle screamed and my throat ran raw with each sensation. Struggling to keep upright on my hands and
knees, I compelled myself forward. I couldn’t let my eyes close. I couldn’t.

But my eyelids were heavy and so were my muscles. I could rest. For a few seconds. Yes, I could rest.

I gave in to the weight of my body, collapsing onto the glass-filled serenity of the floor. If I didn’t move, the glass could no longer shred me to pieces. I breathed with the slow steady rhythm of my heart and let my mind wander to other thoughts beyond pain and blood. Sleep. Yes. I needed sleep.

No! I forced my eyes open and blinked rapidly to focus. Edges of the clear glass now shone with red—blood. My blood.

“Daddy!” I whispered. Daddy should be here by now. I sent out a plea in my head, begging him to somehow hear me and know….

I focused on the door, but there was no way I could make it. Not now. My legs were dead to me—no control, no movement.

My arms. I could still move my arms, but the pain. “Oh, God!” The pain.

“I’m so sorry, Echo. I never should have let you stand up, but the pain will be over soon.” Ignoring the glass, my mother lay down beside me, settling her head on the floor inches from mine. Her wide, glazed-over eyes held a hint of concern.

“Don’t cry.” Her callused fingers wiped the tears off my face. “We’ll be with Aires soon and then there will be no more pain or sadness. Only joy and happiness and we’ll be able to paint— you and I—and Aires will be able to tinker with as many cars as he wants.”

I hardly recognized my own voice, hoarse and shaky. “I don’t want to die, Momma. Please, don’t let me die.”

“Shhh,” she cooed. “Don’t think of it as dying.” She yawned
and her eyelids fluttered. “We’re going to sleep and when we wake, we’ll be with your brother again.”

She smiled and I sobbed, “Oh, God, Daddy.”

My stomach sank. I’d never see my dad again. My father, who was supposed to pick me up, my father, who I prayed over and over again would walk through that door as promised.
Please, Daddy, please. I need you
.

“I’ll tell you a story, just like I did when you were a baby. Cassandra had a beautiful daughter named Andromeda….”

I opened my eyes and blinked several times. Mrs. Collins stood in the door frame and Dr. Reed sat in the chair next to the sickbed. I kicked off the comforter. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. Blood hammered my head and my heart thrashed in the same rhythm. My skin stung as I peeled myself off the bed and my body felt light after experiencing the heaviness of the memory.

Cold air slapped me and disoriented my body and mind. I had fallen and shattered one of the stained glass windows my mother had propped in the living room, but why? Was it an accident? It couldn’t have been, because she seemed so calm and peaceful … resolved. But she’d apologized.

“Daddy,” I whispered. Tears stung my eyes and I immediately sought Mrs. Collins for an explanation. There had to be an explanation because he wouldn’t have left me there—never. My throat closed and swallowing wouldn’t open it up. “Where was he?”

Mrs. Collins said, “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

I waved my hand in the air, refusing that answer. “No. No. I remembered something and now it’s your turn.”

“I understand your frustration, but your mind needs to handle this slowly.”