Breaking Free (20 page)

Chapter 3
2:  August 27

The next morning, I
wake to a familiar voice.  “Hey kiddo, I have breakfast if you’re hungry.”

I crack open one eye and see that I’m curled up in two chairs, my head and chest
on one and my legs on another.  I also have a fleece blanket wrapped around me.  I vaguely remember someone covering me with it last night and kissing me on the forehead.

I open my other eye and see the person who did that—Wanda McCoy—and the source of the familiar voice.  My dad is standing next to her and they’re both smiling at me.  “
Good morning,” they say.

“
Dad?” I ask, rubbing my eyes, not believing he’s really here.  “What are you doing?  And what are you wearing?”  He’s got jeans and a polo shirt on. I can’t remember the last time I saw him without a tie.

“One questio
n at a time.”  He holds a bag out to me.  “Why don’t you eat while we talk.”

I sit up
and reach for the bag. When I open it, I see that it contains a Yoo-hoo, an orange juice, and a water, as well as a muffin, granola bar, and donut.

“Who’s all this for?”
I ask, removing the donut.

“I wasn’t sure what you like.”

“Coffee.”

“You’re sixteen.  You can’t drink coffee.  It’ll stunt your growth.”

I yawn and then say, “First of all, I’m seventeen.  Second of all, I’m five-foot-eight.  I think I’ll be okay.”

He stares at me, deep in thought.  After a mo
ment, he says, “Shit.  August 1st.  I missed it.”

“For the fourth year in a row.”

He rubs his chin.  “I didn’t miss it last year.  I sent flowers.”

I take a bite of donut and talk with my mouth full, not caring about manners around him. 
“Sorry, I was talking about a personal Happy Birthday coming from you, not your admin assistant.”

JC’s mom had been watching us, but she slips
away with a small wave.  I’m sure she doesn’t want to get caught up in some big family battle.

He runs his hand over his forehead and then says, “I’m going to get some coffee.  When I come back, let’s start over, okay?”

I nod and then turn my chair so I’m facing JC again.  I hold his hand with one of mine, while I continue eating the donut with the other.

“You’re missing out, JC,” I say.  “This is a really good donut.  Maybe you should wake up so you can have some.”

When I finish, I brush the crumbs off my shirt and stand so I can study his face for the hundredth time since yesterday morning.  I run my fingers over his brow and along his chin, but they’re stopped by the tube in his mouth.  “This has to be really uncomfortable,” I say, tapping it with my finger.  “That’s another reason to wake up.”

His face feels warm, so I fold the blanket down and put his arms on top of it.  He’s wearing one of those ugly hospital gowns.  “Reason number three—so you can wear something decent.
  I should go shopping.  I can get you something nice.”  I start to walk around the bed so I can see him from a different angle.  “What size are you?  Extra-large shirt?  What about pants?”

When I get to hi
s feet, I lift up the blanket a little.  “Are you ticklish?” I move my fingers along the bottom of his left foot, but he doesn’t react.  “I guess that’s a big ol’ no.”  I continue walking around to his head.  “Probably the best reason to wake up is to see the impending war between me and my dad.  I bet he’s here to drag me home.  I won’t let him, though.  It should be an entertaining scene.  You’ll be sad you missed it.”

I turn around, planning on
going back to my chair, but am startled by my dad standing in the doorway.

“I’m not here to
take you home.”

I’m sure the disbelief is apparent o
n my face.

“Coffe
e?” he asks, handing me a cup.

I take it
from his hands and sit back in my chair.  He pulls creamers and sugar packets out of his pocket and sets them on the table.  “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”

“Black.”

“Really?”

I nod and then he says, “Me, too.  Maybe you got that from me.”

“Yes.  I’m sure taste in coffee is genetic.”

He smiles and
then sits down opposite me.  “I’m sorry.”

“For
what?”

“Being a lousy dad.”

My eyebrows shoot up.  I can’t believe he said that.  Or that he’s so aware of his less than stellar parenting skills.

“I’ve been so focused on my company the last few years
… okay, the last ten years, that I’ve neglected you.  I thought you needed a female role model in your life and I imagined Sheila would be a good mother-figure.”

“She’s a bitch.”

He cringes at my words, but doesn’t yell at me.

“
I didn’t know what you were going through.  She downplayed everything.  She even told me Wilderness Therapy was just a precaution to help you deal with Jenna’s death.  I had no idea things had gotten … so bad.”

By so bad, he must mean my cutting.   

“Plus, I never knew how she treated you.  You have to believe me, Kelsie.”  He puts his hand on my knee and looks at me with pleading eyes.  “Maybe I was in denial or being naïve.  I don’t know … Elise came to me in June.  She was worried because she hadn’t seen you around and told me that Sheila might not be offering the support you’d need after Jenna’s death.  I brushed her off.”

“Elise?”

He nods and rubs his temples.  “She tried to tell me about some of the things Sheila’s done in the past, but I didn’t believe her.  It’s not until Dr. Sanchez came to me that it started to sink in.”

“What’d
she say?”

“
She told me how serious things were with you and how Sheila acted when she picked you up from Wilderness Therapy.  I couldn’t believe it.  I couldn’t believe she let you … cut …” he says the word tentatively, like he’s not sure how I’ll react.

“I cut, Dad.  You might as well get used to saying it.”

He cringes again, but continues, “Sheila never told me you were hospitalized afterwards.  You were in a psychiatric ward for a week and I didn’t even know!”

His eyes wander to my stitches and he rubs his temples again.  “
That was the final straw.  When Dr. Sanchez said she wanted to come to the house to help you, I welcomed her with open arms.  I wanted her to get to the bottom of things.  I wanted her to tell me how much Sheila’s hurt you … how much I’ve hurt you by not being around.”

I ignore the last part and say,
“Sheila’s been calling me nonstop since I’ve been here.”

He looks
surprised.  “Have you talked to her?”

I shake my head and then he asks for my phone.  As soon as I hand it to him, he goes to the text messages and quickly types something.  When he’s done, I look at the outgoing message: 
Leave my daughter alone!  We’re through.  You are out of our lives.  If you don’t listen then I will take legal action and you will lose the gracious offer I’ve already made.

My lips curl up involuntarily as I read his words.  “You wouldn’t lie about
this, would you?” I ask, holding the phone up for him.

“No.  I’m divorcing her.  I can’t be married to someone who
lies to me and treats my daughter the way she has.”

“Really?”

He nods and gulps. “We’ve had some other problems lately, too.  If it was just that, I’d be willing to work through things, but now that I know how she’s been hurting you …  I—I can’t allow it to go on any longer.  I’m sorry I didn’t stop it sooner.”  He looks at me with slumped shoulders and sad eyes.  I’ve never seen him so emotional before.

I know I should
be angry with him since he’s been absent for the majority of my life, but he looks so remorseful that I have to choke back tears and swallow the lump forming in my throat.  He’s trying to make things better.

“
What was the gracious offer?” I whisper, still not trusting my voice.

“Two million dollars and she never bothers us again.”

“Do you think she’ll take it?”

He nods
and sits up straighter.  This is logistics, which is a much more comfortable subject than how his wife, make that ex-wife, totally screwed up his daughter.  “Money is all she ever cared about,” he says.

“And status.  You just took that away from her.  She’ll be the laugh
ing stock of the country club.”

“I’m sure she’ll make up some story about me cheating on her.  That’s fine.  As long as she’s gone.”

I chew on my lip as I process all this information.  On the one hand, I’m thrilled.  Sheila is gone.  For good.  I’ll never have to deal with her again.  I have to fight the urge to dance around the room at that news.  On the other hand, I’m not sure where my dad and I stand.  He hasn’t been a father to me for ages, but he’s here now.

“You
like him a lot, huh?” he asks, cocking his head towards JC.

I nod.

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s
wonderful.”

He takes a sip of coffee and stretches out his legs.  “What makes him wonderful?”

“He …”  I’m not exactly sure how to put my feelings into words.  “He helped me when no one else could.”  I lower my coffee cup to the table and take JC’s hand in mine again.  “He saw something in me that I didn’t see …”

“You’re a good person, you know that, right?”

I shrug.

“What else makes him wonderful?”

“I think he’s smart and ambitious and has a lot of self-control.  His childhood was very different from mine and he resisted things that would’ve been easy to give into.  I’m sure I would’ve given into them.  I’m not that strong.”

“I disagree, but what else?”

I stare at JC’s face, slack and thinner that a few weeks ago, but still one of the most handsome faces I’ve ever seen.  With a grin, I say, “He’s hot.  That doesn’t hurt.”

My dad chuckles and then ask
s, “Do you love him?”

I nod again.  N
ow that I’ve admitted it, I can’t believe I was so clueless before.  How did I not see that when we were together?

“More than any of your other boyfriends?”

Now it’s my turn to chuckle.  He clearly doesn’t know my history with guys.   “There’s not even a comparison.  This is the first guy Jenna would’ve approved of.”

“Was she tough on your boyfriends?”

“You could say that.”

“I’m glad someone was looking out for you since I wasn’
t around and Sheila was …”

“Useless?” I suggest.

He sighs and then takes a deep breath.  “I’m really sorry, Kelsie.  I failed you.  The most important job of my life and I failed.”

He looks so sad that I want to tell him it’s okay, but
it’s not.  I agree that he failed and it’s been hard for me.  I chew on my lip while he runs through something in his mind.

Finally, he says,
“I’m going to fix it, okay?”

“Fix what?”

“Our relationship.  I’ve taken a sabbatical from work.  Six months to start, but I’ll extend it if I have to.  You are my focus from now on.”

My eyes grow wide.  I’m not sure I want that kind of attention.

“You look nervous,” he says with a smile.

“I—I’m kind of the independent type.  I’m not sure I need you hovering over me.”

“I won’t hover.  I’ll just be around.  Someone you can talk to.  We’ll have breakfast and dinner together every day.  I’ll go watch you cheer.  Is it football or basketball?”

“Both.”

“Great!  I’ll go to all the games.  I’ll help you with your college applications.  I’ll take prom photos of you.  I’ll volunteer on the PTA.”

I hold up my hands to stop him.  “Okay, stop.  You’re kind of freaking me out,” I say, but feel the tears collecting in the corners of my eyes.  I can’t believe he wants to spend time with me.

“I love you Kelsie.  I’m sorry I don’t say it more often.”

I nod and then give him a hug.  I
t’s the first time I remember doing that since I was four.

Chap
ter 33:  August 28-31

The next three days
are miserable.  JC is so close, yet still so far away.  He doesn’t move at all.  No flinching.  No twitching.  Nothing.  I don’t understand how someone can lie that still for days at a time.  The only thing that keeps me holding out hope is the warmth of his skin.  It’s the one difference from Jenna.

My dad has been coming and going, usually showing up around meal times so we can eat together.  Nana and JC’s mom continue to alternate day and night shifts, bringing in other family members regularly.  I’m surprised that they all know who I am and hug me as soon as they
enter the room.  At this point, I smile and extend my arms automatically.  I have to admit it must be nice to have such a large family.  I’ve never had that.  It’s only ever been me, my dad, and Sheila.

Marta visits occasionally, but she’s
been spending more time with Kris who has started physical therapy with her prosthetic.  I go up to her floor once a day while JC is being examined by doctors.  She continues to have a positive attitude about both her life and JC’s.  I welcome that because as soon as I go back to his side, I feel my optimism plummeting.

It’s now lunchtime so my dad appears with a pizza
box.

“Do you like pepperoni?” he asks, setting it on the table next to me.  This has been how we spend much of our time
, him asking questions to learn about his daughter.  It’s sad that he doesn’t know such basic things about me, but at least he’s trying.  I help him out by offering additional information whenever possible.

“Sure,” I say, opening up the lid.  “My favorite is ham and pineapple, though.”

“Really?” he asks, picking up a slice.  “I don’t think I would’ve ever guessed that.”

“JC’s favorite is pepperoni.”

“You had pizza while you were camping?”

Laughing, I say, “No.  Sometimes we’d sit around and talk about what we missed most
from home.  He usually said his family, but one day it was pepperoni pizza.”

“
What did you say?”

“Starbucks.  K
ris made excellent coffee, but we only got it every few days.”

“That makes me sad.”

“It made me very sad.”

He shakes his head and
offers me a tiny smile.  “That’s not what I mean.  It’s sad that coffee was the one thing you missed while you were out there.  Not your family or friends.”

“I didn’t really have any close friends left,” I mumble.

“And your family let you down.”

I chew the bite in my mouth, happy to have a reason not to talk.  Once I swallow, I change the subject.  “School starts next week.”

“It does?  What day?”

“Wednesday.”

He bites his lip.  “You should probably get back for that.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

He looks out the window at the drizzle that’s been falling since last night.  After a few moments, he turns back towards me and says, “Maybe I could get you a tutor.  Like homeschooling or something.  You’d have to do the work, though.”

“I’d do it.”

He nods and says, “I’ll look into it.”

Before we’re done with lunch, Marta walks into the room.  “How’s everyone
today?” she asks, walking next to JC and rubbing his arm.

“Same.”

“How are you, cariño?”

“Annoyed that he won’t wake up.”

“Give it time.”  She circles back around to my side of his bed and scrunches up her nose when she gets close to me.  “Are those the same clothes you’ve been wearing for days?”

I look down.  I hadn’t even realized.  “Umm
… maybe.”

“When was the last time you showered?”

“I don’t know … a few days ago?”

“The first morning we were here?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s it.  You need to go back to the hotel.  Shower.  Take a nap in a real bed.
  You’ll feel better and you’ll be more positive for JC.”

“I can’t leave him.”

“I’ll be here the whole time,” my dad pipes up from across the room. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Marta grabs my hand and pulls me up, despite my protests.  “They need to prevent germs in the ICU.  If any of the doctors get a look
… or whiff of you, they’ll kick you out.”

I finally relent and head back to the hotel by myself.  I had only planned to shower, but once I was clean, I lay back on the bed for a few moments, waiting for m
y hair to dry.  The next thing I know, it’s six in the evening.  I slept five hours and do feel much better.  Marta was right.

When I get back to JC’s room, my dad is still there, reading on the loveseat.  Nana is also there, knitting
, and I wish I had my scarf project.  I text Marta and ask her if she brought it for me.  While I wait to hear back from her, I hold JC’s hand and absently rub my thumb over his knuckles.

“So,” I say
, scooting my chair closer to him.  “I’ve decided that I won’t accept anything less than you waking up.  Once I set my mind to something, I’m pretty persistent.  I will annoy the hell out of you if I have to.  I could sing,” I say, considering possible songs.  The problem is I haven’t listened to music in ages.  The one song that springs to mind is the pop song Jenna and I sang the night she died.  That’d likely ruin my upbeat attitude so I focus on something else.

“I could
remind you about that night on the rocky ledge.  Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t been such a gentleman now.  What if that was your last chance to get lucky?”

Nana and my dad both glance in my direction, but neither says anything.  I decide I’ll wait until I’m alone to relive that
evening with him.

“
I guess I could tell you Prince Jalen stories, but mine are never as good as yours.”  I rest my chin on the edge of his bed, right next to our hands.  “How about a different story?”

After a few moments, I say, “I’ll take your silence as a yes.  Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a beautiful princess named Jenna.  She had blond hair, flawless skin, and bright blue eyes.  You’
d probably say she looked like Barbie.”

I draw our folded hands under my chin and rest my head on them.  “She was smart.  Probably the smartest princess there had ever been.  She was also a little bossy, but usually made good decisions so no one minded too much.  One day, Princess Jenna woke up to
the King banging on her door.  That was the day she had to pick a husband.  Jenna had been dreading the day for months.  She knew all the guys in the village, but didn’t like any of them.  Her true soul mate lived in the neighboring village.  He could never be an option, though.  There were strict rules that princesses could only marry within their land.

“Despite the rule, Princess Jenna and this guy
… Tom, snuck out of their village walls and spent every evening together.  They were hopelessly in love.  And … there was a baby.”

Both Nan
a and my dad look at me again, this time with concern on their faces.  “There’s not really a baby is there?” he asks.

I roll my eyes and continue the story.  “Princess Jenna was thrilled.  She had imagined having a daughter of her own for years.  She couldn’t wait to share the news with her best friend
… Kari, but she knew she had to tell her dad, the King, first.  He would be furious.  Tom refused to let her break the news on her own out of fear the King would banish Princess Jenna to the swamplands where dragons and two-headed snakes—“

Movement un
der my chin causes me to jump.  I gasp and stare at his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” my
dad asks, rushing to my side.

“He moved.”

Nana stands and hobbles over to us.  “Are you sure?”

I nod and continue staring at his hand, but it stays motionless and just as lifeless as it’s been the past four days.

“I swear,” I mumble.  I grasp his fingers with my own and squeeze.  “I felt it, JC.  I’m here.  Please do it again.”

While I’m talking, my dad rings the
call button.  A nurse comes in and asks us what’s wrong.  I explain it to her and she rushes out of the room to get the doctor.  Soon the room is packed with people all staring at JC and I have to tell them what happened.

The doctor spreads JC’s eyelids and shines a light in, taps his elbow with a little tool that causes his
arm to jerk, and listens to his heart and lungs.

Finally, he turns around to address us.  “It’s hard to say, but it could be possible he’s slowly coming out of the coma.  It generally happens over a period of a few days.  We’ll keep an even closer eye on him for the time being.”

I can’t help but smile as everyone clears out.  I grab JC’s hand again and shake it.  “You’re waking up! Omigod, Marta was right!  Please hurry up.  I want to talk to you.”

I stand there, tappin
g my foot and shaking his hand.

“The doctor said it could take days,” my dad says.  “You need to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.  He’s waking up!”

Nana stands on the other side of the bed and holds
JC’s left hand.  I don’t think she has any plans of being patient either.

“I can see this is going to be a long night.  I’ll get us some coffee.”

Once he leaves, Nana and I smile at each other.  “I knew the good Lord still had plans for my boy on Earth,” she says.

“
Do you think he’ll be okay when he wakes up?”

“The Lord will give him what he needs,” she s
ays without an ounce of worry.

We end up standing like that for ten minutes
until we realize it may be a while before he moves again.  I bring Nana’s chair over for her and then sit in my own.  We both stare at his face, looking for any sign of consciousness.

“Anything?”
my dad asks, handing out coffee when he returns.

“No.”

“Maybe you should tell him more of your story.  That seemed to do the trick last time.”

“You’re right.  As soon as I mentioned snakes
…”  I pause.  “He hated snakes.  Like, really hated them.  Maybe that scared him into moving.”

“What else does he hate?”

“Water.”

I take a sip of coffee and then
rest my chin on the bed again.  “When the King found out, he didn’t banish Princess Jenna to the swamplands.  Instead, he put her on one deserted island and Tom on another, separated by fifty feet of shark-infested water.  He also shackled Jenna with a ball and chain.  If she went into the water, she’d sink.  The only way they could be together was if Tom swam to her through the sharks.  The King knew he’d either get eaten or drown in the process.”

“Lord have mercy,”
Nana whispers.  I sit up and follow her stare.  She’s watching JC’s face.  His beautiful face with open eyes gazing straight ahead.

“JC!” I yell.  I drop his fingers and grab his face with both hands.  “JC!”   I kiss his forehead while Nana says a silent prayer.  I take a step back and watch him.  He doesn’t move his head, but his eyes rotate, first looking at Nana and then at me.  I bite my lip, not sure if I should kiss him, hold his hand
, or just stand there smiling.

His lips curl up slightly, almost unnoticeably
, when he sees me.  I can’t help myself, I lean back over and kiss his cheek.  “I love you.”  His smile grows a little bigger and then his eyes close.

“No, no!  Wake up!”
I yell, shaking his hand again.

It doesn’t help though.  He falls back into unconsciousness for the next eight hours no matter what kind of stories I tell.  At some point, I drift off to sleep,
despite trying to fight it with all my will.

When I wake, it’s sunny and the room is swarming with people again.  I haul myself out of my makeshift bed and stand at the foot of
JC’s behind the medical people.  The first thing I notice is the tube missing from his mouth.  He must be breathing on his own now.  Then I see his eyes.  They’re open and he’s looking around the room.

When
he lands on me, he smiles, a real smile this time.  It melts my heart and all I want to do is jump into his arms, but the doctors and nurses are blocking me.

“Do you know your name?”

He turns his head slightly to focus on the doctor who asked the question.

“T—T
…”  He swallows and tries again. “Ty—Ty …”

“It’s okay.  That will come
in time.”

“Do you know who this is?” he asks, putting his hands on Nana’s shoulder.
“Nod yes or no.”  He nods yes.

He walks around to me, asks the same question, and gets the same response.  When he does it wi
th my dad, JC shakes his head.

“He doesn’t know him,”
I say, wanting the doctor to understand that his answer is correct.  “It’s my dad, JC.”