Overcome (10 page)

Chapter 22

Parker

Parker knew something was wrong the minute he walked into the house and wasn’t greeted with that refreshing, cool sensation from the air conditioner. The air in the house was muggy and hot. When he stepped further inside, the dining room had blankets and sheets scattered across the floor, leading to the wide open French door, the culprit letting in the heat.

“Mom?” He cautiously headed outside toward her prized flower garden.

She was pulling a large sheet over the bed of petunias. Her hands shook and she looked small and feeble as she mumbled to herself.

“Mom, what are you doing?” He raced outside, closing the door behind him.

She blinked up at him. Her face was sunken in. Her eyes vacant with dark rings around them. “Parker, there’s a frost coming. I have to get my flowers covered.”

“Mom, it’s ninety-eight degrees and not even noon. You cover your flowers, you’ll kill them.”

“No.” She shook her head and she continued to pull on the blanket, the tops of some petunias popped off, floated in the air, and rolled on the grass.

Parker looked back at the house. What was going on? Where was everyone?

“I can’t let that frost get my beautiful garden.” She continued as she stumbled back toward the house, passing Parker like he wasn’t even there.

A phlegmy-cough erupted from her as she ascended the few steps on the porch. She rattled the door handle as if she couldn’t get it open on her own.

Parker was right behind her. He reached out and twisted the knob and she grabbed the fleece Spiderman blanket lying by the door.

Her body trembled as she turned, almost wrapping her own brittle frame in it.

“Mom,” Parker shook his head. “You’re going to fry your flowers.”

“That frost …” she mumbled not even looking up at him. She shuffled across the porch. The blanket became a tangled mess at her feet, and just as Parker reached for her, she tumbled.

It happened in slow motion as Parker shouted for her. He couldn’t get to her in time. She fell face first on the hard, grassy ground with a thud that made his stomach clench. Parker flew off the porch.

He couldn’t make it to her frail body fast enough.  “Mom,” he lifted her off the ground with little effort.
When did she become so small? Kammie weighed more than her.

Parker rushed into the house with his mom cradled in his arms, like Carly was a few nights before. There was blood and he wanted to throw up.

“What the heck?” Spencer’s grumbled voice was distant as Parker rushed through the kitchen, trying his hardest not to get his own feet tangled in the sheets that were wadded all over the floor. “What’s going on, man?”

“She fell,” Parker said as he lowered her onto the large, leather sofa. Her skinny arms flailed at him.

“Quit your fussing. I’m fine,” she hissed, out of breath, and began to push herself up.

Parker lifted his face toward Spencer, who stood, wide-eyed with ear buds hanging off his shoulders and a Coke in his hand.

“Mom, you’re bleeding.” Parker turned back toward her. He should have known Spencer wouldn’t be any help.

“It’s just a scrape.” Her boney hand stung as she swatted his arm away. “I need to get my flowers covered.”

Parker was kneeling beside the sofa and he looked back at Spencer again. He had to find another way to reason.  “Mom, Spence and I will get the flowers for you. You take a nap.”

“I don’t need a nap,” she spat. “Would you just go away already? Go be a teenager.” Her eyes finally landed on him. They were full of anger and irritation, something he always received from his birth mother, but never her.

Tears stung in his eyes as he lifted himself up.

“Mom, we’re just trying to help,” Spencer finally spoke.

Parker let out a long breath and looked at the ceiling.

“Quit hovering if you want to help,” she snapped.

Parker stalked out of the room, and dialed his dad’s office.

“Hey Shelly, is my dad busy?” Parker tried to keep his voice from cracking as he gathered up the mess his mom made. It looked like a little kid had tried to make an indoor fort.

“I’m sorry, he’s in a meeting. Can I take a message? Is this Owen, Spencer, or Parker?”

“It’s Parker …” he looked over his shoulder as he wadded up a blanket and tossed it on the table. “Uh … tell him … can you tell him there’s something wrong with mom.”

She was silent for a long minute and he picked up another blanket. His mom’s voice rose from the other room, cursing at Spencer.

“Is it an emergency? I can get him if it is.”

“I think so.” His voice was raspy and jumbled as it came out.

“Hold on a minute.”

Parker nodded even though she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t speak. He shoved the crumbled blankets up under his arm and walked to the hallway closet, putting them back in place, trying not to cry.

“Parker?” He almost lost it when it was Shelly’s voice again and not his dad’s.

“Yeah?”

“Your dad’s on his way.”

Chapter 23

Carly

The smell of sugary dough filled the house as Carly waited for the cookies to bake.

He didn’t say
when
he would call, but she found herself keeping busy, baking, cleaning her room, painting her toenails. She already regretted telling him he could call. Being one of those girls who wait around for a guy was not who Carly wanted to be.

Music blasted as the basement door opened.

“Carly,” Coby slurred as he shut the door behind him. “Smells good. Chocolate chip?” He stumbled as he made his way toward her. Hudson had a group of guys downstairs, playing video games and drinking beer under the passed out drunk in the living room. From where she was, she could see the tips of her dad’s gold-toe socks propped up on the recliner’s footrest.

“Yep.” She leaned against the counter and checked her phone again, nothing.

She didn’t want to be disappointed. It wasn’t like they were anything.

“Another loser stand you up?” Coby hiccupped.

She glared at him. “I’m waiting on Bree to text.”

“So you aren’t currently seeing someone?” He stood too close and the smell of beer was on his breath.

She slipped her phone into her back pocket and pushed on his chest. “Told you before, it’s not going to happen, Coby. You’re like a brother to me.”

He laughed, but backed up. “I gotta take a leak. Can I have a cookie?” He glanced at the oven.

Her phone buzzed. “I’ll bring them down when they’re done,” she said as she pulled the phone from her pocket.

Her heart crushed when she saw it was from Jake.

You going to come down here?

Carly frowned.

“Whoever he is, he’s a fool.” Coby slurred and sauntered off.

Jake wasn’t what she wanted. At this point she no longer cared about getting revenge on Khloe. She wanted Parker, but Parker was a disappointment. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. Without responding to the text, she pushed her phone back into her pocket.

*****

The buzzer dinged. She pulled out the cookie sheet with her pink pot holders. Kicking the oven door shut behind her, she headed down the stairs with the cookies.

“Yeah, Carly’s here with some grub.” Coby sat up from the brown bean bag chair and lowered the game controller to the ground.

Hudson, who was leaning on his side on a rug with a second controller, punched Coby in the arm.

Digital fans cheered at the football player on the screen. Hudson cursed and Coby lifted his hands in the air with a ‘woo.’

Lewis sat on the sofa, and looked up from the game at her. A beer sat in between his legs and he gave her a half smile.

She resisted the urge to punch him and sat the cookies down on the small table.

“Wanna hang out, there’s some beer.” Lewis nodded toward the cooler sitting beside him.

Jake sat on the other side of it. Carly’s eyes met his and he jerked his head to the side motioning toward the laundry room.

Carly gave a slight nod, nothing that anyone else would notice. “No, I’ve got homework.”

After what happened last time, she’d never drink with Lewis again. In fact she didn’t drink at all anymore.

“It’s summer.” Lewis swiped a cookie.

Coby had a handful and winced because they were still hot, but he was determined to hold them all. “Mmmm, mmm, mmm.”

Hudson leaned up and reached for one as well.

“Carly, will you marry me?” Coby muffled through a mouthful.

She just shook her head at him. Every time she baked he said that.

“How many times have we been through this dude, you’re not marrying my sister?” Hudson slugged him on the shoulder again.

“Oh, but I am, as soon as I’m done sowing my wild oats and she’s done sowing hers.” Coby wrapped his hand around her ankle.

“Coby, not happening.” She watched Jake. He sat at the edge of his seat and stared at her.

“I don’t wanna hear about my sister’s wild oats,” Hudson’s voice was loud and obnoxious.

Carly stepped out of Coby’s grip and made her way to the laundry room. She listened as the game started back up and threw a load of towels in the washer as if she always did the chore.

“I don’t believe school’s been keeping you that busy.” Jake’s hands were on her waist and his breath blew against her ear when he spoke.

He smelled like beer and mint, as if a breath mint was going to cover the brew.

She tried to smile, to like it. This would be her distraction. She wouldn’t be attached and she’d still get her vengeance. She turned around and slipped her arms around his neck.

Jake’s eyes were glossy and hooded as he picked her up by the waist and sat her on the washer. He stood in between her knees.

“You can text just as easily as I can,” she smirked, leaving her game face on. Even though all she wanted was for Parker to call.

If only Jake was Parker.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine he was. But when their mouth’s collided, she couldn’t mistake Jake’s sloppy, vacuum-suction kisses for Parker’s slow, knee weakening ones.

Jake made a grunting noise and pulled her against his chest.

No matter how hard she tried to forget who she was with, it was impossible. She lifted her hand to his hair. It wasn’t soft like Parker’s, it was coarse and sweaty, making her want to gag.

“Jake,” her voice was muffled as he mulled her mouth with his.
How did Khloe do this all the time?

His clammy hands slipped under her shirt, and she slid her hands so they were flat on his chest to push him away.

Jake narrowed his blood-shot eyes, “What?”

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” She hopped off the washer and smoothed the front of her shirt.

“You were the first one in here.”

She looked at the ground, like she didn’t feel bad enough that she was the go-to girl when anyone wanted to have a good time.

“I know,” she whispered. “I just … I’m not feeling it tonight.”

She couldn’t get to the stairs quick enough as she rushed out of the room and past the other guys shouting at the video game.

Why did she let Parker invade that space she’d kept guarded? They were all the same. Whether they did sweet stuff or spoke amazing words, they all wanted one thing.

But the nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her of the night in the hot tub. She practically threw that at him and he wouldn’t take it.

Maybe she loved torture, because she glanced at her phone again. It was almost midnight, and she was sure he wasn’t going to call now.

One thing about Carly, she learned her lesson easily. She wouldn’t be that stupid again.

Carly took her time cleaning up the kitchen. As long as she kept herself busy, she wouldn’t think about how much she hated the fact that she almost let him in. Everything she’d worked so hard to keep protected, she’d almost lost.

It was near one in the morning, Lewis, Coby, and Hudson had all been through taking bathroom breaks, so one would figure Jake would be the next one up those stairs.

She kept her hand running over the already clean kitchen counter and her face down. She didn’t attempt to speak to him, nor did he her and she was thankful for that.

Lights floated across the wall, someone pulled into the driveway.

Normally Carly would find this odd, but since Hudson had a guy’s night going on down stairs, she was sure it was one of his buddy’s coming in after a date.

She was at the door before whoever it was could ring the doorbell and wake their dad. Most people wouldn’t ring a doorbell at one in the morning, but Hudson’s friends weren’t most people. They’d been hit in the head too many times at football games.

She pulled the door open and began to point them to the basement, and ask them to be quiet when her eyes met watery brown ones.

Her heart sank.

The porch light shone down on him casting an orange glow across his face.

He was still wearing the same clothes he’d had on that morning. He didn’t speak. His hair stuck up in tufts and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Parker?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call.” His voice was rough like he’d been shouting or not talking for a long time.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Instead of answering her, he threw his arms around her waist and buried his head in her shoulder.  His body shook and she returned the embrace. All her emotions, came flooding back to her. She’d never held a guy while he cried. She’d hardly ever seen a guy cry.

The basement door slammed behind her, making her jump.

She pulled away from Parker, incase Jake woke her dad.

“Hey,” she whispered and looked over her shoulder. She could still see her dad’s sock-adorned feet propped up. He hadn’t stirred. He must’ve drank enough to stay passed out. She took Parker’s hand. It was warm and sent butterflies loose in her belly as he curled his fingers around hers.

She led Parker to her room, as quietly as possible. If her dad didn’t wake when Jake slammed the door, which she was sure was his intentions, he wasn’t going to wake as they made their way to her room.

Parker didn’t look at her, and she didn’t turn on the light.

The street lamp coming in through her window illuminated the room enough for her to see him. He sat on the edge of her bed, his head down and his knee bounced.

She stood in front of him and he gripped her waist, tugging her to him. His face pressed against her stomach as she stood between his knees.

Carly ran her hand over his hair. Soft, not sweaty and coarse, and even though he was in bad need of a haircut she liked his hair.

She wanted to know what was wrong, but she didn’t ask. She was just there.