Unveiling The Sky (16 page)

“It’s not that. It’s just…” I blew out a breath and regarded her soft, expectant expression before continuing. “My mother passed away last year and it’s...” I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “It’s her birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she whispered. It was so low it came out as a breath instead of a word. “I—I’m sorry. How old would she have been?”

“Forty-three.”

She nodded before joining me on my side of the kitchen. Both of us were leaning against the counter, inches apart and staring straight ahead without saying a single word. “Look, as you can see… I’m fine. So you can tell Derek you did what he asked and be on your way.” I motioned to the front of the apartment before reopening the fridge and grabbing a beer. She said nothing as I took a long pull.

“So, did ya find out what’s wrong with him yet?” Naomi asked as she walked into the kitchen and jumped onto the counter across from us.

I stayed quiet as Alara shifted nervously beside me. “He’s just having a bad day. We all have them, there isn’t always a reason.”

“Derek’s been staying at our apartment for the past two nights.”

“So?” she said with a shrug.

“So, Alara? So I call bullshit.” She brought her gaze back to me. “Look, I like you and I don’t know what’s going on, but he shouldn’t be exiled from his own apartment. If this is going to be a regular thing—”

“He wasn’t exiled and it won’t be a regular thing. Look, I was an asshole to him a few nights ago and he hasn’t been back since. I’ll apologize and explain, but he has to be the one to come home, so I have no idea why he’d send you guys.” My voice was gruff even to my own ears as I lifted my bottle to take another large “sip.”

Naomi cut Alara a questioning look before her eyes softened and she nodded. She jumped down from the counter and started wordlessly out of the kitchen. Pausing at the divide between the kitchen and family room, she turned around. “I’m sorry. Derek hasn’t said anything; he’d probably be pretty mad if he knew we were here bothering you…” She trailed off as her gaze bounced between the two of us. I looked at Alara for the first time since Naomi came in, and though she tried to hide it, I saw her wide eyes and the quick shake of her head.

“I’m gonna head out now, I’m getting dinner with Caleb. Gabe, do you think you could give Alara a lift home?”

My eyes never left Alara’s profile, and with a nervous glance in my direction she started toward Naomi. “Uhh… that’s okay. I’ll just leave with you now.”

I cleared my throat and stood up a little straighter. “I’ll take Alara home.” She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and turned just her head to look at me before responding.
 

“Are—are you sure?”
 

I nodded and tried my best to offer a genuine smile before lowering my gaze to the bottle in my hand.
 

“Great! I’ll see you later then.” I looked up in time to see Naomi flash us a pleased grin before practically running out of the apartment, almost like she wanted to leave before we could change our minds.

“What’d she mean?”

“Huh?”

“Naomi. She said Derek would be pissed if he knew you guys were here, but you told me he asked you guys to come check on me…” I trailed off and raised my brows.

“Oh… right.” She bit her lip and her cheeks turned pink. “Derek didn’t exactly ask us to check on you.” She shrugged shyly. “When he came to crash at our place I asked what was going on. All he would say was that something was going on with you and it seemed you needed some space. And like Naomi said, he asked us not to come over but I… I mean… we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.” This time I didn’t have to force a genuine smile, it came naturally. And I was grateful when her tense and unsure posture turned loose and more confident.

“Okay, well friends are there for each other, even if one of them is being an asshole. So…” She trailed off as she walked by me and out of the room. I followed and leaned against the doorjamb while she dropped to the couch.
 

“Alara…”

She continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “Sooo… grab yourself another beer”—I looked down to see it was almost empty—“pick a movie, and have a seat.” When she patted the spot next to her all I felt was relief and for a moment, just a moment, I forgot why these days were going to be so hard.

…

Two and a half beers later, I was channel surfing when I came across my mom’s favorite movie,
The Sound of Music
. God, she loved this movie. She would watch it on her birthday, on sick days, on rainy days, on random Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings.
 

“That sounds nice.” Alara’s voice waded through the fog of my thoughts as I slowly registered that I must have spoken aloud. “It’s always good to have a movie like that.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me something else,” she whispered softly.

She turned toward me, leaning her right arm on the back of the couch with her legs curled under her. I muted the television, tipped my head back and closed my eyes. “Hmm… she loved lilies and rubies. She hated reality television and going to the beach. She always made macaroni and cheese during rainstorms. She was… the best parent a kid could ask for. My dad was always gone, and even when he was home he wasn’t really there. But my mom tried so hard to make up for it, to be a mother
and
a father. She learned all about football and would organize game nights for me and all my friends. When there was a father-daughter dance at school, my mom went to her childhood home that she was disowned from and begged her dad to go with Samantha.” My eyes burned as I thought about how hard that must have been for her. I rolled my head to the side, and when I opened my eyes I found Alara’s warm smile and soft eyes focused solely on me. “She gave us everything we ever wanted.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She was.” My brows furrowed as I shook my head and continued. “But the problem with giving us everything, was that when she died she took everything good in our world with her.”

Alara looked at me with unmistakable pity, but she offered no meaningless apologies. As I took in her slight frown and wary expression, I realized she seemed to be debating something and I thought back to everything I’d revealed, and all the questions one would naturally ask.
Why was your dad always gone? Why was your mother disowned? How’d your mother die?
And I could tell she wanted to ask them, but instead she simply asked me my mother’s name.

“Rachel.”

She smiled and looked at the ceiling before murmuring, “that’s pretty.” I continued to stare at her until eventually her eyes found mine again.

“Yeah, pretty,” I whispered. Her slight smile told me she thought I was talking about my mom’s name. I wasn’t.

“It was cancer,” I said a few minutes later; at least I was able to answer one of her unasked questions. She nodded and we spent the next few minutes in silence, just staring at each other.

“Thanks for being here. I thought being alone would be better, but…”

She took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her pants. “Sometimes we think we want to be alone, when really all we want is the right person to be alone with.” I saw her hand twitch, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it looked like she wanted to reach out and touch me. My eyes left hers, but I let my hand float toward hers until I felt her soft, smooth skin. Slowly I wrapped my hand around hers and held it. We sat like that for several seconds before she tentatively shifted her hand and weaved her fingers through mine. Palm to palm, I felt a disturbance in the smooth skin—a slightly raised line ran along hers. I gazed down to find that her sleeve had ridden up slightly and exposed a jagged scar on the heel of her hand, disappearing into where ours connected. When I looked up at Alara I noticed her staring at our hands intently, like it was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

“What is it?”

“Hmmm?” She slowly lifted her head and met my gaze.

“You just… you look confused or something. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

She shook her head and bit her lip shyly. “No, it’s not that.”

“You ever held hands with someone before?” I joked.

She looked embarrassed when she answered. “Not really. Unless I was helping someone up or ice skating… there’s always a lot of hand-holding in ice skating unless I want a bruised ass.” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

I squeezed her hand. “What’s so wrong with having your hand held every once in a while?” I asked, ignoring her attempt at deflection.

Her expression turned somber as her gaze drifted over my shoulder. “People tend to drop it.”

We continued holding hands for the rest of the movie, and whenever he had to let go, he always made sure to give my hand a reassuring squeeze when he grabbed it again.

“Alara.” The whisper came right before a hand gently shook my shoulder. I slowly came awake, realizing that sometime during the movie I must have fallen asleep on Gabe’s shoulder. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I gingerly sat up and gave him a rueful smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out on you.”

He smiled as he brushed hair from my face. “I didn’t mind.”

“What time is it?”

“Ten after eleven.” He grimaced as he pushed himself off the couch. “I should have woken you sooner.” I waved him off before standing up as well. “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”

He grabbed my hand once more and led me out of the apartment and down toward his car. I smiled as he held the door open for me, keeping his hand in mine until the very last second. We drove to my place in silence, our linked hands resting comfortably on top of the center console. Sometime during the drive, my eyes drifted shut and my head tipped back against the headrest. When I felt the car pull to a stop and heard the engine turn off, I opened my eyes and rolled my head in Gabe’s direction.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for coming to check on me.”

I smiled. “Thanks for letting me.”

As his gaze moved across my face, he started to look nervous. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and leaned over the console to give me a quick kiss on the temple. It happened so fast I barely had time to enjoy it. But when I looked at the clock and saw his mother’s birthday fast approaching, I knew now wasn’t the time to say any more. I squeezed his hand until he opened his eyes and looked at me. I gave him a small, hopefully reassuring smile and squeezed his hand a couple more times before carefully letting go and stepping out of the car.
 

When I reached the sidewalk and looked back at him, I could see the gratitude shining from his eyes, like I gave him something precious. When I turned back around and quickly walked to my apartment, I smiled at the thought.

I wasn’t always sure I was helping myself get better, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe I didn’t need to have everything figured out. Maybe I could be important and helpful, even if I didn’t have my own problems in order. Maybe… just maybe, my depression didn’t have to matter as much as I’d always let it.

Today was Gabe’s mother’s birthday. I stared at the ceiling, willing myself back to sleep. It was seven thirty in the morning and with no plans for the day, all I was left with were thoughts of Gabe and how perfect everything felt last night. All I wanted to do was call and talk to him, but I was weighed down with worries. Would he want to hear from me? What would I say? Had last night meant anything to him? Or had he just been upset? Unable to take any more overthinking, I shoved the covers on the ground and got out of bed.