When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

50. August

Sky can likely sensemy nerves as we pull in front of my mom’s apartment. Hers bleed freely as well. We discussed visiting my mother again, and I agreed with her. She needs this closure as much as I needed to know I was innocent.

After squeezing my hand, her brows dip as she views the white building three stories high through my dusty windshield.

“She’s on the second floor. Says she didn’t want to be exposed to trespassers by being on the first floor, but in case of a fire or tornado, says the third floor was too high to save her in time.”

Sky nods and joins me as we get out of the truck. “Not going to lie; that’s solid logic.”

The cool wood of her ring presses against my fingers as I take her hand. That alone settles me. No matter what happens inside this apartment, I’m walking out with her.

Twisting the key in the lock, I let us in the front entrance and up a set of concrete stairs, our steps echoing.

I stop us in front of 2C, my foot brushing the edge of a checkered welcome mat.

Sky huffs out a timid laugh and points. “I didn’t realize how funny your mom would be.”

Angling my head, I follow her finger. I stand corrected. It doesn’t say welcome anywhere on the mat. It reads: The Neighbors Have Better Stuff.

“I forget she’s not old like other moms and wouldn’t be caught dead with a pastel or floral mat.” And the thing likely speaks the truth. She refused to let me help her furnish the place, which was unusual given how they begged me for money when I was nineteen, as if the glove compartment of my car—my home—was busting with cash. Instead, she elected to scrounge items from the local dump. Paying full price for something today doesn’t bother me as much as it did as a kid, but I’ve grown up and can afford things now.

Maybe it’s her way of trying to make amends, and I shouldn’t dismiss the effort. This isn’t the time to pretend I’m anywhere near perfect.

Ready to get this over with, I knock. The acrid scent of cigarette smoke faintly wafts from the closed door. After my dad died, she said she was going to quit. Start fresh and get healthy. Seems that habit is harder to break than others.

Footsteps shuffle to the door and pause. A chain lock pulls from the inside, clanking on the wood.

“Mom, it’s me,” I say, clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides.

There’s more at stake with Sky here. More opportunity for my mom to make things worse for her. But she deserves the truth, and it’s the only thing stopping me from grabbing her and getting the fuck out of here.

There’s nothing wrong with my mom. It’s our history. So convoluted with time and space and while we talk at least once a week, it’s hard to forget the moments she forgets about me.

But she’s trying, and I’m willing to let her if only because of the woman beside me and the child I once was who craves familial affection and acceptance.

“Auggy,” she says, pulling the door all the way open. She drags me in for a hug, one vastly different from Catalina’s. A combination of smoke and heavy rose tickles my nose as she squeezes me tight, her braided hair streaked with gray brushing my cheek.

“Hi Mom.” I give her a quick kiss on the temple before wrapping an arm around Sky’s tense shoulders. “Remember Sky?”

“I remember her. Come on in—we’re letting out the heat. They like to charge an assload for heat around here.”

Sky looks to me and I nod, placing my hand on the small of her back before following her and my mom over the threshold.

“Sit anywhere you’d like. I might have something small for you to eat if you’re hungry. Maybe some lemonade I can make real quick? I know I bought those little packet things the other day.”

“I’m okay,” Sky says, holding her arms close to her body.

I wish I could make this easier for her. Wish we didn’t have to do this in the first place, but the file in Foster’s office didn’t yield the results Sky wanted, so this is important to her even if we have to suffer through an awkward encounter to get answers.

I sit down on the lumpy couch and pat the space beside me. My mom takes a seat in the worn recliner next to us, bending forward with her hands clasped, the metal rings on her fingers clinking together.

“So. You wanted to talk to me about your mom?” she addresses Sky, pulling at her nose. Her eyes are everywhere but on Sky. She’s nervous, too.

I pull Sky’s shaky hand into my lap and lace our fingers together, watching as she relaxes a fraction.

“Yes, but first, how’s your head doing?”

My mom briefly touches the fading pink line on her forehead where the stitches once were and cringes. From embarrassment over the whole thing or vanity, I don’t know. “It’s fine. Thanks.”

Sky bobs her head. “That’s good to hear.”

When it’s clear my mom isn’t going to say anything else, Sky continues. “Um, well, about Dannie. I haven’t seen my mother since before the fire. I was ten. There’s only so much I remember about her, so anything you can tell me, I’d appreciate. Especially if you know where she is.”

Marley Moore doesn’t get uncomfortable. She and my dad would argue with cashiers over how many coupons they could use to get the best deals and never hesitated to get a manager involved if they felt slighted. If we ever went out to eat—which was a big if on whether I’d be invited—neither of them felt remorse if they dined and ditched. I always made it a point to go back and pay if I found a way to, my face burning each time. So no, my mother shouldn’t be sitting here ready to crawl out of her skin.

“Dannie was complicated.” She shrugs, her rings again clinking together as she fidgets.

Sky stiffens and loses any filter she may have had. “What’s complicated about forgetting your own children?”

Marley jerks her head as if Sky hurled the accusation at her instead of Dannie. Sky squeezes my thigh tightly, and I brush a hand down her spine, letting her know I’m here and I’ve got her.

“She wanted to let loose. You weren’t the only one getting knocked around by your dad.”

It’s my turn to straighten in my seat. “And that makes it all right to you? That Dannie abandoned her kids because she was also getting beat up? I understand the system is screwed, and it’s hard for women to come forward when they’re being abused, but come on, Mom. Sky was a little girl, Chase, a baby.” I lower my voice so the neighbors don’t get a front-row seat to this shit show. “You and Dad and Dannie were supposed to be the adults, not partying when life got too hard. That’s why I’ve been working so hard to get Chase’s Place done so that there’s somewhere safe for these women and children to go.”

My mom turns to me, a flush moving up her neck like a red tide. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry.” She fans her face. “I’m just nervous, okay? Dannie was upset and called me and asked if she could come hang out that night. She was burned out taking care of your brother and having to deal with your dad. I didn’t know she already made plans with you. She always did her own thing.”

Instead of my thigh, Sky crushes my fingers next, and I bring them to my lips for a kiss. “I’m sorry, Shortcake,” I murmur. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I feel helpless.

She shakes her head like she’s shaking off the pain and continues. “Do you know where she went? After she found out about the fire.”

Marley sighs and sits back, picking at the tweed material of the armrest. “She never told me. She’d call every once in a while to chat, but she was always in a new place. Kind of like me and Kent. A nomad. I suspect she—well, you, too—have other family. Otherwise, I’m not sure how she’d make it.”

I don’t believe Sky ever considered the fact she might have family out there. She told me she never heard any stories, and no one came forward after the fire to take her in, so she naturally assumed she was all alone.

But now, I see hope mingling with her fear and frustration.

“Do you still have her number?”

My mom nods and stands, walking to the hook near the door where her purse hangs. “I can give you the only number I have, but like I said, we only talked occasionally, and the last time was several years ago,” she says, pulling her phone out of a side pocket.

Sky releases me to grab her phone, her hands trembling as she holds it and waits.

I watch as she inputs the digits into her contacts, noting she added her under Dannie instead of Mom. I don’t blame her. It’s hard to even see my mom as more than Marley, a virtual stranger in most regards. I should be grateful I can reconcile with the one who gave birth to me, but I’d be lying if I said it was easy.

Sky’s cloudy gaze meets mine. “Can we go? I don’t really feel so well.”

“Absolutely.” I brush back her hair and kiss her forehead before standing.

“We’re going to head out,” I say to my mom, helping Sky to her feet, lacing our fingers once again. “I’ll swing by later.”

“Are you sure you have to rush out? I mean, you just got here. But okay, it’s okay, I understand. Yes, I’ll see you soon.” She wrings her hands and then shoves them into the front pocket of her hoodie, stretching out the peace sign embroidered on the front as she walks with us to the door.

“I’m sorry this wasn’t the best visit, Sky. But I would like to get to know you better someday. You’re all Auggy here ever talks about.” Her smile is small, but it’s genuine.

Sky dips her head and leans into me, clutching my arm. “He’s a good man. I’m lucky to have him. And I’m sure there will be more opportunities to get to know one another. I did want to offer you my condolences for your late husband.”

Marley plays with the ends of her braid, shifting on her feet. “Thank you. It’s been rough, but I’ll be okay.”

As soon as we step out and the door shuts behind us, Sky wilts. I hold her around the waist and walk side by side down the stairs, supporting her the way I know I can. With my presence.

I open the truck door and lift her inside, buckling her seat belt and tilting her chin toward me. “I’m proud of you for being so brave. I know that wasn’t easy.” Tears spring to her eyes, and I lean in to kiss her softly. “Whatever you need, Shortcake, I’ll give you.”

Her forehead rests on mine. “You being here is enough. I’m sure being around her isn’t always your favorite thing to do, either. Thank you.”

One more kiss, and then we’re on the road to her house.

Whether she makes the call to her mom or not isn’t up to me, but the result will be the same. She’ll have me to lean on no matter what.