Family Ties (18 page)

“He’s here. Downstairs waiting for me, in fact.”

“Good. He’s a great guy, Sara. Don’t let him go.”

I smile. “Not a chance.”

He snickers. “Don’t be a stranger. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come to my lame graduation party.”

“Hunter, you’re not lame, so your party can’t be lame either.”

“Says you.”

“Thanks for being a real friend. What you did for me means a lot.”

“I say I got the better deal. Everyone else missed out.”

He traded all of his friends for me. I gained a friend when I had none. I’d say
I
got the better deal.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

We move at a hurried pace through The Green, a mini-golf course that is crowded tonight. I putt the way Jason showed me, but I keep rushing and end up taking a lot of strokes to get the ball in the holes.

A girl calls my name as we walk past the small windmill. I freeze and my body braces itself with the sound of the familiar voice. 

I turn to Victoria, standing with the putter over her right shoulder and left hand on her hip, in white capri pants and a red t-shirt. Her straight, dark hair is pulled back with a red elastic headband.

“Not here, Victoria,” I say, hushed.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You
never
got to tell me what to do,” she says, sneering.

“Sure, why should I even try to start now.”

“You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Our parents can’t come to her rescue, which means they can’t blame or punish me for her actions either.

Her face turns almost as red as her shirt and she stomps her foot. Someone tugs on the back of my shirt, but I ignore it.

“You ruined my life!” she screams, bringing her left hand to the putter and swinging it at me.

I recoil and bring my left hand up to block her swing. The shaft connects with my forearm and a jolt of pain shoots up my arm. “Ow! Fuck!” I yell, nestling my arm against my chest as Damian and Jason drag me away from Victoria.

Arissa yanks the putter out of Victoria’s hands. “What the hell is wrong with you, Victoria?”

“Shut up, Arissa! You and your parents ruined my life too!” she screeches.

An older man in a yellow polo shirt and khaki shorts comes up behind Victoria and holds his hand out to Arissa. She eyes him and hugs the putter.

“She’s not getting it back,” he states. 

Arissa passes it to him.

“What are you doing?” Victoria asks, swiping at the putter.

He ignores her, keeping the putter out of reach, and shifts his gaze to me. “Are you okay?” 

“I think so.”

Arissa fishes her phone out of her purse and steps to the side.

“I’m sorry,” he says to me.

“Don’t apologize to her!” Victoria screams. “She’s the one who ruined my life!”

He looks to her. “That’s your sister?” 

“Yes!”

He returns his attention to me. “I’m sorry, again.”

A security guard arrives before I can ask the man who he is. “Sir,” the guard says to the man, “I need you and your daughter to come with me.”

“He’s not my dad!” she shouts.

“Regardless, I need you both to come with me.”

She crosses her arms. “I’m not going.”

“You can come with me or I can call the police to take you to the station in cuffs. It’s your choice.”

“Let’s go, Victoria,” the man says.

She lets her breath out in a huff and stalks off.

“That was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, awestruck.

“What? You getting hit with a golf putter?” Damian asks.

“No. Victoria not getting her way. That was totally worth the bruise I’ll have.”

“Are you all right?” Jason asks, inspecting my arm.

“I’m okay. Just a bit shocked right now. I don’t think I can keep playing. That really smarted.” I notice Arissa is still on the phone. “You guys can finish, though. You’ll play faster without me.”

“Forget that,” Jason says. “I’m okay with leaving.”

I glance at Damian. “Do you two want to play out the game? We can wait at the snack bar for you guys.”

Arissa shakes her head, then turns off her phone and smiles as if she was never on it.

“Who were you talking to?” I ask.

“My parents.”

“Why?”

“To tell them what Victoria did.”

I let out an exasperated breath. Knowing Rose and Andrew, they’re already worrying.

“They need to know, Sara.”

“I know, but we could have waited until we were home to tell them,” I say, frustrated.

“Sorry, but I didn’t know if we were going to have to call the police or not.”

“What do you guys want to do?” Damian asks.

“Let’s go to Joe’s,” I suggest. “I could use a banana split.”

“Anything you want, Parker,” Jason says, slipping his right arm around my waist, effectively keeping my arm from being jostled as we make our way through the crowd.

“Hey, Riss,” I say, once we’re in the backseat of Jason’s car, “do you have ibuprofen in that big-ass bag of yours?” 

She smiles, knowing my quip means I’m okay and I forgive her for calling her parents.

“I don’t know.” She digs through her purse. “I think it was either the condoms or the ibuprofen and I chose the condoms. Oh, you’re in luck,” she says, presenting me with a bottle of ibuprofen. “Guess I left out the condoms.”

“Say it ain’t so, babe,” Damian says, twisting his head around.

“Get a room.” I elbow Arissa playfully and take the bottle.

She blushes and looks out her window with more interest than usual.

At Joe’s, I make a beeline for the bathroom with Arissa in my wake. I wash my hands as she heads into a stall. “Are you falling for Damian?” I ask, drying my hands.

Silence is all she gives. It’s an uncomfortable topic because she’s never been emotionally attached to another boy before.

The toilet flushes and she swings the door open, going straight to the sink without looking at me.

“Riss, has he stopped being a just a boy toy?”

Her cheeks turn pink again. “I think so.”

“Arissa Jericho, in love,” I tease.

“Stop it!”

“What? Don’t like the shoe being on the other foot?” I snicker.

She dries her hands and leans against the sink.

“We’ve never said the L-word to each other. We’ve never even had a serious conversation about our relationship.” 

“Sounds like it’s time.”

“I know, but what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Riss, you two have been together longer than Jason and I. He’s always at the house and he pretty much said he’s in it for the long haul. Face it, talking about it is just a formality at this point.”

She sighs.

“Come on,” I say. “We better get back out there before they send in a search party.”

The guys are waiting with two banana splits when we return to the booth.

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Arissa says, her eyes gleaming.

“I have something else the doctor ordered,” Joe says, setting a bag of ice on the table. “I heard you were in a fight.”

“Thanks, Joe.” I smile. “You should see the putter.” 

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you guys need anything else,” he says.

I rest my forearm on the ice pack and dig into the banana split.

“I can’t believe your sister was there,” Damian says, then shovels a spoonful of banana and ice cream in his mouth.

“Me neither,” I respond.

“I can’t believe she swung at you with the putter,” Jason adds.

Arissa snorts in derision. “You never met her sister, did you?

“No. She was at a friend’s house the night of our first date.” 

I continue eating without looking at any of them, praying for something else to discuss.

“What should we do tomorrow?” Damian asks, answering my silent prayer and winking at me.

Rose rushes to me, already crying, and throws her arms around me when Jason drops us off. “Oh, Sara. Are you all right?” she asks, pushing me away and scanning my body.

“I’m okay, just a bit shocked still,” I assure her.

“Where were you hit?”

I lift my forearm for them to see.

“It looks okay,” Andrew says.

“I’ve had enough broken bones to know it’s definitely not broken,” I state.

Rose winces at the casual mention of my abuse.

“Riss had ibuprofen and Joe gave me an ice pack when we got there.”

Rose’s shoulders drop a bit. “Come sit down, sweetie. We need to hear what happened.” 

Once we’re seated, Arissa and I recount Victoria’s tirade. 

“That was her foster father,” Andrew informs us as I sink into the sofa.

“Her social worker is coming tomorrow morning,” Rose says.

I bolt upright. “What? Why?”

“It’s okay,” Rose says, sliding her arm around me. “She only wants to hear what happened from you and Arissa. By the time we called, her foster father had already called her.” 

I’ve had bad luck with social workers and I don’t feel like dealing with another one. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Rose answers, hugging me again. “Sleep well.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The doorbell rings at the end of breakfast and Andrew leaves to answer the door while we clear the table.

A short, young woman with copper hair cut in a short bob stands in front of Andrew when we enter the living room. She is dressed in a plain green t-shirt tucked into black jeans with black sandals. A large, black leather notebook is cradled in her arms.

Professionals like their leather accessories.

“Here they are,” Andrew says, smiling at us.

“Hi. I’m Shannon Marshall,” she introduces herself.

We take turns introducing ourselves and shaking her hand.

Arissa sits with me on the sofa, threading her arm through mine.

“I hear you two saw Victoria last night,” Shannon says, her smile appearing forced, as if she’s only smiling because she’s paid to. It could be my bias seeing things, or she could be a snake oil salesman like Blake. Her dull crystal blue eyes lead me to believe the latter is true.

“Saw? She attacked Sara,” Arissa says, leaning forward, her volume increasing with each word.

Rose covers Arissa’s knee with her hand.

“Sorry.” She drops back into the sofa.

“It’s okay,” Shannon says, opening her big notebook and clicking a pen open. “I’d like to hear what happened.”

We take turns recalling the chance encounter with Victoria. Shannon makes eye contact, nods to show she’s listening, and takes notes like Sam does with me in therapy.

“Sara, do you mind if I take a look at your arm?” she asks.

I extend it with the bruise showing and she leans over. “I took ibuprofen and iced it when we were at Joe’s.” 

“Smart girl,” she says, inspecting my bruise.

“Thanks.”

She sits back. “I appreciate you meeting with me this morning. You know I can’t tell you what Victoria is doing. But, she hasn’t had it easy.”

There it is. I snort. Victoria has Shannon wrapped around her little finger. “
She
hasn’t had it easy? Do you even know what happened over there?” I hook my thumb towards the house I grew up and suffered in. My body vibrates like a tuning fork and floods with heat.

She squirms in her chair and the fake smile dissipates from her face. “I know you accused your parents of abuse.” 

“
Accused
? If it weren’t for the Jerichos and Jason, I’d be dead. My father was beating me outside for everyone to see when Andrew stopped him. I have three witnesses right here to that incident. He raped me. Repeatedly. I’m in therapy because of them. If you’re trying to get me to empathize with Victoria, it won’t happen. She enjoyed in getting me into trouble for things I didn’t do every chance she got. She can’t stand it now that she doesn’t have anyone to spoil her rotten. I have no love or empathy for her.” 

Shannon’s face is red. She stows her pen in her leather binder and closes it. “I’m sorry,” she says, flustered. “I only have what Victoria and your biological parents reported during the intake investigation.”

“Maybe you should’ve read my file before meeting the accuser.” 

I stand up with my entire body shaking. If I don’t make my exit now, the rage will return and create untold damage. “It was nice to meet you, Shannon. If you’ll excuse me. I have a phone call to make.” I walk into the kitchen and dial the phone without thinking.

“Hello?” the groggy voice on the other end of the line answers.

“I need you,” I murmur into the phone.

“Parker?” he asks, more alert. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

I hang up and find Arissa, Andrew, and Rose standing, waiting when I turn around.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“What for?” Andrew asks. “We’re proud of you being assertive in there.” 

“I wasn’t rude?” I ask.

“No, sweetie,” Rose answers. “You told her what happened and how you felt. When you left, you excused yourself. How would that be rude?”

I shrug. “I was trying to get out before I exploded.” 

Andrew folds me up in his arms and I hug him in return. “You did a marvelous job, Sara.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I don’t say it enough. I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

He kisses the top of my head. “You were part of this family before you came to live here. As far as I’m concerned, I was saving my other daughter that day.”

I squeeze him tight before letting go. “Jason’s coming over. Is that okay? I know I should have asked first, but he popped in my head when I was trying to calm down.”

“Sure,” Andrew says.

Jason wraps his arms around me from behind as I wash the last of the breakfast dishes. I set the dish and sponge in the sink and turn around in his arms. My hands come to rest on his biceps, and I gaze into his eyes that search mine. “I met Victoria’s social worker this morning.” 

“How did that happen?” 

“Rose and Andrew talked to her last night while we were still out. She wanted to hear what happened from me and Arissa, so we told her and I showed her my bruise. Then, she tried to get me to empathize with Victoria because she ‘hasn’t had it easy.’” 

“Easy? What kind of bullshit is that?”

“The kind when they don’t have the whole story. So, I stood up for myself.”

“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” he says, bringing the left corner of his mouth up into a half smirk.

“Yeah, well. I really wanted to slap her. I came in here and called you instead. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Your first thought was to call me?” he asks, forming a full smile.

“Yes.” Heat flushes my cheeks.

“I call that progress, Parker.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “How’s your arm?” he asks, breaking away and taking my left arm with both hands.

“Sore, but not too bad.” It’s nothing compared to what my father used to do to me.

“I still can’t believe you tried to stop the putter instead of ducking or moving away.” He inspects the bruise then skims his lips over the splotch of purple.

“Maybe I’m a little braver now.”

“You’ve always been brave,” he says as if it is fact, not opinion. He sets my arm at my side and moves me away from the sink. He finishes washing the abandoned dish and places it on the dish rack. “So what shall it be today?” he asks, drying his hands with the towel hanging on the oven door handle.

“I thought we’re going to a movie with Damian and Arissa this afternoon.”

“We’ll still do that. But I mean you and me. Before the movie.” 

“Oh.” I shift on my feet. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that.” I pause, then change the subject. “You got here fast. Did you eat breakfast?” 

“No. I brushed my teeth and put on clean clothes before rushing over.” 

“Rose made extra pancakes. Do you want some?” I open the fridge.

“Since Rose made them, the answer is yes.” He sits on a stool at the island.

I start the microwave with a covered plate inside and set the butter and syrup out, along with silverware and a cloth napkin. The microwave beeps and when I turn around with the pancakes, the napkin is tucked into his shirt and the knife and fork are standing on end in his fists.

I double over laughing.

“Hey, be careful. That’s my breakfast,” he quips. He sets the silverware down and lays the napkin in his lap.

I hand him the plate, then sit and watch as he butters his pancakes and pours syrup over them. “Thank you for the laugh. I needed that.”

He caresses my back and winks as he chews a mouthful of pancakes.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Coffee.”  

I frown at him and slide off the stool.

“You woke me up,” he points out.

I sigh because he’s right. I pour out the rest of the coffee from the pot and set it before him. “Cream or sugar?”

“Black.” He grins with a mischievious glint in his eye. “I have an idea,” he says, cutting himself another bite from the stack. “Come home with me to meet my mom.” He inserts the forkful of pancake into his mouth and chews while I stare at him dumbfounded.

“J, I…“ My mouth hangs open in the pause. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” 

His steady gaze remains on me. “She asks about you. She
wants
to meet you.”

“She
wants
to meet me?” I ask. Knowing someone wants to meet me is new.  

“Yeah. She wants to meet the girl I chased for two years.” He grins.

“You…ha…you…“ I blunder. “You talk to your mom about me?” 

“You’ve known the Jerichos for years. Arissa talks to her parents. You don’t think I talk to mine?” 

“I just never thought about it before,” I admit.

“My parents know all about you. They knew about you
before
we started dating.”

“What?”

“It was my mom who pointed out that you were right about what I was doing,” he says, enlightening me. “She told me I had to think about what I really wanted and make a choice.” 

“I just thought you were being incredibly mature after you broke up with Becky.” 

“Parker, I’m a guy,” he says. “I happen to have a mom who takes an interest and doesn’t let me keep acting like a dumbass when she finds out what I’m up to.” 

“Isn’t she at work?” 

“No. Today is her day off.” 

“Oh.” I can do this. I just stood up for myself with Shannon. “If you really want me to meet her, I will.” 

“I really do.” 

“Finish your pancakes and I’ll tell Rose.” 

Jason pulls his car into the left side of his driveway and gets out. I hesitate a moment before opening my door. He wants this. He’s done more for me than I’ve done for him. I can do this. I take a deep breath and climb out.

He leads me along the paved walkway to the front porch. A set of two white Adirondack chairs is placed on either side of a small, matching white table on the left side of the porch and a natural stained porch swing hangs on the right.

His mother looks relaxed, lounging barefoot across the swing and engrossed in a book. A yellow cotton dress with cap sleeves drapes over her lithe body. Her hair, the same dark sienna as Jason’s, is cut short and spiked.

“Mom.” 

She startles and tips her head up, then smiles. “Jason!”  She rises out of the swing and lays her book down. “You must be Sara,” she says warmly, enfolding me in her arms.

Her embrace takes me by surprise. “Hi, Mrs. Waters.” I return her hug with my free arm. Jason tries to let go of my hand, but I hold on tight.

“Call me Alana,” she says, stepping back. “I’m so glad we’re finally meeting. Honey, take her around back and I’ll bring out some lemonade.” She retreats inside as Jason leads me through the gate into the backyard.

A small garden takes up the right side and a pond with ornate landscaping decorates the left. We sit at a wooden picnic table on the patio.

“Why haven’t you brought me here before?” I know I never asked, but I never thought to.

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you into meeting my parents.” He brings our hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of mine.

Alana joins us with a tray, placing it in the middle of the table and passing us the drinks.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a drink. I pucker at the tartness of the fresh lemons. “That’s really good lemonade.”

“Why, thank you.” She cradles her head in her hand. “Jason tells me you’ve known each other quite a while now.”

“First day of ninth grade.” In full sun, I notice Jason has her eyes.

“You two are so cute together,” she says, grinning.

“Aren’t we, though?” Jason boasts and cocks his head to touch mine.

I smile shyly. “Jason mentioned today is your day off,” I say, attempting to shake off embarrassment. Or maybe it’s anxiety. Or both. “What do you do?”

“I’m a psychiatric nurse.” 

“That must be interesting.”

“Never a dull moment and no day is ever the same.” She sips her lemonade. “Jason tells me you live with your best friend and her family.” 

My gut reaction is to tell him he had no right to tell her. It’s
my
life, not his.

But I made the choice to have him a part of it.

“Her parents have guardianship of me.” I take a deep breath and squeeze his hand. Hard. He could’ve at least warned me. I want to crawl out of my skin and rock myself to sleep while in the fetal position. “They intervened last year when they witnessed my father beating me outside.” 

“And your parents are going to trial soon?”

I nod. To Jason’s credit, he gives no indication that I have his hand in a death grip. I should be nicer, but it’s keeping me from reverting to old coping skills in front of his mom.

“I understand you were in foster care.”

“CPS didn’t think I was safe living across the street from my parents, even though I had been safe there for months.”