Authors: Tiffany Aleman,Ashley Poch
Replacing
my hand with my head, I lay there listening to his heart, letting the beat
soothe me. “My friends pleaded with me to let them take me out. They would all
show up at my house with stuff for sleepovers. Aunt Brenda would answer the
door, but I never came out of my room. They just wanted to take my mind off
what had happened. Once everyone realized it was no use, they just kind of gave
up.”
“Everyone
abandoned you,” he states.
My
shoulders lift in a slight shrug. “I don’t blame them. I abandoned myself way
before they left me.”
“I’m
so sorry,” he whispers as he kisses my hair and hugs me to him.
“My
poor Aunt Brenda was so worried about me. She was suffering, too. My mom was
her only sister, and they were as thick as thieves. She left her life behind to
take care of this twelve year old, me. I don’t even want to think about how I
would have reacted had I been in her situation,” I scoff. “But I think,
watching me in so much pain hurt her even more. One day, I came home from
school, and before I could set my things down, she was dragging me out of the
house and shoving me in the car. She drove me out to this horse ranch on the
outskirts of Conroe. When we pulled up, I asked her what we were doing, and she
said that I needed to find myself again.”
“Is
that why you have the connection with horses that you do?”
“Yeah.
At the time, I hated her. I would throw things, break stuff, scream at the top
of my lungs, but she didn’t care. Aunt Brenda would wait until I finished my
temper tantrum, and then she’d drag my stubborn ass there anyway. I didn’t want
to go to some ranch, but it turns out, it was the best thing that ever happened
to me. It took a long time, but I eventually found myself again. Every day I
was at that ranch, I could feel myself getting better—stronger.” A shuddering breath
escapes me as I whisper, “I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”
“Can
I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
“You
should know I think you are a very brave, courageous, determined woman,
Kenleigh. I loved my cousin, but I couldn’t imagine losing my parents. I don’t
know if that’s something that I could survive, especially at such a young age.
And to know that you came back from something like that?” He shakes his head
before adding, “There are no words for how proud of you I am.” Leaning toward
me, he whispers against my lips, “Thank you for trusting me with that.”
I
pull him to me, kissing him with everything I have in me. I let every emotion
inside myself bleed into this one kiss.
Sunday
passed with a blur. Mrs. Sandy kept me busy. Between cleaning the house,
shopping for the next few days of camp, cooking for all the volunteers, and all
my own mundane things I needed to get done, I was worn out by the end of the
day. Needless to say, I didn’t really get to see Wes yesterday, and I couldn’t
stop feeling the disappointment in that. I missed him.
I
step out onto the walkway that leads off from the porch. I spot Bailey as she
walks toward me with a smile on her face. Her mom had called Mrs. Sandy this
morning to let her know that Bailey had a dentist appointment and wouldn’t be
here until early this afternoon. “Did you have a good weekend?” I ask, meeting
her halfway.
“It
was okay, I guess.” Her melancholy doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Well,
okay is better than awful,” I retort, playfully nudging her arm with mine.
“What did you do?”
“My
parents and I drove up to Ft. Worth to see my grandparents, even though I
didn’t want to go.”
“Why
didn’t you want to go?”
“Too
many memories,” she whispers.
I
put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her mid-stride. She looks up at me. “It’s
okay to remember. Eventually, it does get better.”
I
can sympathize with her. When my parents died, it was so hard to be in our
house. Every corner I turned, I saw them. I’d walk into the kitchen and see my
mom cooking, or laughing at something funny my Dad had said or done. I couldn’t
even escape to the backyard, because I’d see my dad back there mowing the yard,
and Mom standing on the deck holding up a glass of iced tea for him. But I
couldn’t leave my house either—I didn’t want to. It was the only place where
their presence and memories still lingered. In an odd way, our home tortured me
and made me feel better at the same time.
“When?
When does the pain go away? How do I make it go away?” Bailey asks, her voice
thick with emotion, and her eyes filled with anguish.
“With
time,” I whisper. “As far as how to make the pain go away, it never really
does. It just lessens.” I shrug. “When my parents died, I felt…”
“Like
your heart was ripped out?” she quietly asks.
I
take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. Like my heart had been ripped out. But it
doesn’t feel that way anymore. I still miss them. So much. Every day. But after
a while, my heart slowly pieced itself back together.” I squat down to her
height and look her in the eyes. “You have to find something that makes you
happy again, Bailey. For me, it was horses. That may not be the case with you,
but you have to
find
something to bring
you
back to life.”
My
eyes widen in shock when she lunges at me, throwing her arms around my neck,
squeezing me to her. Gently, I hug her back. Under my hands, her back shudders
from her soft cries, and my heart breaks for her. I softly stroke her hair and
let her cry. Of all places, the middle of the yard in front of everyone is not
where I wanted to have this talk. But if there’s one thing that I’ve learned,
bottling up your emotions never gets you anywhere. So, if she wants to cry,
right here, on my shoulder, then so be it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve
broken down in the middle of a grocery store just by looking at a shopping
cart. The memory of my mom pushing the buggy, and me standing on the end of it,
would bring on the tears. I did it more to get a rise out of her than anything
else, because I knew how much it annoyed the crap out of her.
We
sit there for a few minutes longer when she finally pulls back, releasing her
arms from around my neck. “Thank you, Kenleigh,” she croaks.
“If
you ever need me, I’m here for you. Okay?” I tuck a stray piece of hair behind
her ear, and hope that she really understands that I am here for her. She
finally nods with an easy smile. “What do you wanna do today?”
“Can
I hang out with John, if he’s not busy?” she asks as her smile starts reach her
eyes.
“Whatever
you want.”
When
I stand up, Bailey turns around and rushes over to where John sits, laughing
with some other kids while they all paint. I shove my hands into my back
pockets, feeling elated that Bailey not only opened up to me willingly, but
also sought comfort from me.
A
piece of paper crackles in my hand. My smile widens when I remember what I
found on my dresser when I woke up. I opened the neatly folded note; four
honeysuckle flowers lay tucked tightly into the creases. In neat handwriting,
it says:
A
smile that reached from ear to ear spread across my face. I folded the note
back to the way I found it, brought the piece of paper to my nose, and smelt
the sweet fragrance before tucking it in my back pocket. My sweet, to the point
Wes.
“Kenleigh!
Kenleigh!” I look around to see who’s shouting my name when my eyes land on
Sarah. I pull my hands out of my pockets and head in her direction.
“Hey,
Sarah,” I offer as I approach the horse corral.
“Is
there any way you could watch Isabel for a few minutes? I really need to use
the–”
My
hand flies up to stop her. “Too much… Just go, Sarah.” I laugh as she quickly
introduces Isabel and me before she darts away.
I
crouch down and wrap my arms around my knees before I look at Isabel. Her
beautiful, long, black locks highlight her stunning light brown eyes and her
dark tan complexion. “Are you having fun?” I ask, trying to make eye contact,
but she just stares at the horses. “Did you like the art group this morning?”
“Yes,”
she answers, still not looking at me.
“Did
you paint or draw something, or did you build something?” My eyebrows raise as
I smile at her.
“I
painted.”
“And
what did you paint?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.
Yesterday,
when Sarah and I helped Mrs. Sandy grocery shop, we spoke about Isabel’s
Asperger’s Syndrome. Sarah said that she rarely made eye contact with anyone or
held a conversation, but she loved petting and helping feed the horses.
Remembering that bit of information, I ask, “Isabel? Would you like to come
with me to get a bag of apples? You can help me feed Autumn in the barn.”
That
gets her attention.
“Yes!
I love Autumn. She’s such a pretty horse,” she gushes with a wide, toothy
smile.
I
stand up and extend my hand to her. She takes it, and we set off for the barn.
I know I should wait for Sarah to come back, but I know when she sees that
we’re not here, she’ll come looking for us. As Isabel and I pass by a group of
kids in a circle listening to Mrs. Sandy tell a story, I spot Jackie walking
with her kid whom I still haven’t met. Our eyes meet, and I nod at her with a
sad smile. I hate what happened between Jackie and me this past Saturday, but I
can’t let her think that it’s okay to talk to me like that either. When she
doesn’t acknowledge my subtle greeting, I know things between us are still on
the rocks. Choosing to tackle that subject later, I push forward with Isabel,
and leave Jackie’s and my issues alone. Isabel and I round the corner and run
into Bailey and John.
“Hey
guys,” I say, stopping. “What are y’all up to?”
“Hey,
Kenleigh,” John says excitedly.
“John
wanted to come in here and look at the horses,” Bailey says with a shrug as she
stands next to him.
With
his hands on the wheels of his wheelchair, John rolls himself back and forth a
couple of times. “Man, Kenleigh, I went to the mall this weekend with my dad,
and you should’ve seen how many girls were looking at me.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh,
yeah. I knew these flames were going to be a chick magnet. It’s ‘cause I’m so
hot’,” he says, sweeping his hands up and down his body like ‘what’s-not-to-like’.
Boys and their hormones.
“Ahh…
a Casanova.”
“No.
A chick magnet,” he retorts as he shakes his head. He looks up at Bailey with
his eyebrows dipped, nose scrunched, and lips twisted. “Casanova? She don’t
know what she’s talking about.” And with that, we all burst into laughter.
Well, all of us except for Isabel. She just looks at us as if we’re crazy.
After
a minute or so, I gain control of myself. “If you need me, Bailey, I’m going to
be in here with Isabel.” I point in the barn. “We’re going to feed Autumn some
apples,” I say, looking at Isabel who’s openly staring at John.
I
gently squeeze her hand, garnering her attention. “I’ll see y’all later.” I
wave at Bailey and John over my shoulder as Isabel and I disappear into the
barn.
Against
the wall across from Autumn’s stall sits a large, brown, wooden barrel full of
apples. A brown, leather satchel hangs on a hook above the barrel. I remove the
leather bag. “Would you like to help me fill the bag?” Instead of answering,
she starts to pick up apples, counting one by one, as she places them in the
bag.
Once
she counted out twenty-five apples, she grabs my hand and skips her way across
the breezeway to the stall. I sit quietly on a bale of hay and watch in
fascination as Isabel feeds Autumn. Isabel, much like me, may not be very
social, but she shares the same connection with Autumn that I do. I see it in
both of their eyes. I watch as their eyes meet and both of them immediately
calm. At first, I can’t tell that Isabel is nervous about being with me. But
now, I watch as her shoulders relax, and her body straightens as she stands
taller, and a tension that I haven’t seen before leaves her eyes. The large,
strained muscles in Autumn’s back no longer twitch from the extra weight of
carrying her foal. A slow smile forms on Isabel’s face as she talks quietly to
the horse as she feeds her apples.
I’m
not sure how long I sit there just watching Isabel, my mind completely blank.
“She
really loves that horse.” I’m startled at the sound of Sarah’s soft voice from
behind me.
I
crane my neck to look up at her as she leans against the railing outside of the
stall. My voice is quiet as I reply, “They’re so relaxed around each other.”
“Where’ve
you been?” I ask, realizing that she’s been gone a lot longer than it should
ever take a person to use the bathroom. That’s when I see the red flush in her
cheeks, and her hair slightly messed up. “Sarah?” I whisper-shout at her.
“What?”
she snaps, rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders. “You have Wes and I
have…”
I
have a pretty good idea of whose name she’s going to say but I let her tell me.
“Liam,” she finishes.
“You
and Liam together?”
“No,
but sometimes...” She trails off.
My
eyebrows arch, and I nod my head, understanding what she means.
“Don’t
do that. Don’t judge me,” she whispers. She shakes her head, and I watch as
tears threaten to spill from her sad green eyes, and I know that she thinks she
has just made a huge mistake.
“I’m
not judging you, Sarah. I don’t know the history between y’all, but I’m here if
you need anything.” I reach up and squeeze her hand. I’ve seen the way they are
around each other, but I’ve also seen Liam fuck one girl one night and a
different girl the next.
She
swipes the tears away. “Anyway, I just came to get Isabel. I saw Bailey out there,
and she said this was where y’all were. The parents are starting to show up,
and I’d like to get her cleaned up before she leaves.”