11. Clayton
Chapter 11
Clayton
It wasn’t hard to see through Patricia’s lies. Her sunny disposition didn’t hide the fact that she was meddling. Her intentions were pure. I think, had I not spooked her by pulling my little disappearing act the other day, she might not have felt it necessary to make sure I got plenty of time out of the house.
She took me to lunch the other day before having Kieran take me to my physical therapy appointment. Lunch wasn’t bad. She took me to the food court at the mall, saying that being around people was good for me. In reality, it was a special kind of overstimulating hell. By the time I was finished lunch and physical therapy, I wanted to lie down for an eternal dirt nap.
“I’m sure Kieran doesn’t need my help on this trip.” I waved my broken arm at her. “I’m not good for much yet.”
Patricia puttered around in the kitchen gathering some snacks for the road as if she hadn’t heard a thing I said.
“Do you like snickerdoodles?” she asked. “Of course you do. Everyone likes snickerdoodles.”
“What is it we were picking up for you, again?”
“A birdbath. An antique birdbath.”
“Ah, yes. A birdbath.”
Patricia narrowed her eyes at me, but I saw the way her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. “Every decent home needs a birdbath. ”
“It’s the sign of a crumbling society, you know, the lack of birdbaths.”
Patricia smiled like she’d won something. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
I wanted to thank her for so many things. Her kindness and her grace. Her hospitality. Patricia was a rare sort of person. She helped people because she wanted to. There were no strings attached. She had a way of talking to me and looking at me that made me believe she didn’t hold my past against me.
My own mother had never been as forgiving. Each mistake I made was a treasure to her. Something she could drag out and show me when she wanted something from me, even if that something was just my misery. If my own mother never found it in herself to forgive me for even the smallest things, how was Archer going to forgive me for what I’d done? How would anyone?
“Make sure Kieran stops for lunch,” Patricia said. “It wouldn’t kill him to stop and smell the roses now and then.”
“Is that why you suddenly need an antique birdbath?”
Mischief danced in Patricia’s eyes. “I’ve always wanted one. Imagine all the little birdies we’ll see. Maybe we’ll get some squirrels or bumblebees or something showing up to use it.”
“You fancy yourself a Disney Princess, Mom?” Kieran’s deep voice startled me and I jerked in my chair.
“Well, I can hardly live out my princess dreams if I’m not surrounded by tiny woodland creatures.” Patricia closed the lid on the cooler of snacks she’d packed and motioned for Kieran to get it. “I made you snacks, but you’ll have to stop for lunch.”
“It’ll be quicker—” Kieran stopped mid-sentence. Patricia was giving him the look, the stony, don’t-argue-with-me look that mothers everywhere were seemingly born knowing how to execute. “We’ll stop for lunch.”
Kieran grabbed the cooler off the counter and kissed his mom on the cheek. “Come on, Clayton, we better get going.”
Heaving myself out of the chair, I followed Kieran to the door where I stepped into my one running shoe. He put the cooler in the back seat while I climbed into the truck.
It was easy to see that we’d both been manipulated into this pointless trip, but both of us had willingly been talked into it. I hadn’t put up much of a fight, and even my therapist thought the time away would be good for me. A change of scenery now and then was important, she’d said. Not that I’d tell Patricia that. She was already far too pleased with herself.
“Are we really picking up a birdbath?” I asked Kieran about five minutes into the drive.
He rolled his eyes and did his best to look annoyed, but the affection he had for his mom outshone his annoyance. “An antique birdbath.” Kieran smiled. “We can’t forget that part.”
“I know she orchestrated the whole thing to get me out of the house. I didn’t mean to worry her, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
If Patricia wanted me to do one-armed handsprings, I’d try for her because she’d done so much for me. Her patience and acceptance were big factors in why I was determined to turn shit around for myself. The idea of disappointing her made my stomach clench.
First things first, I needed a job. My cast was due to come off my arm in another week, and then I had more physical therapy. And still no clue how I was going to pay Shane back. I still hadn’t heard from Archer. Not that I expected to, but part of me had hoped, even though I knew hope was a useless thing to carry with me regarding Archer .
Asking for help had never come easy to me. Help came with strings. It came with obligations. If someone did you a favor, they could use it against you later. But this wasn’t Sam or any of the people who’d been willing to use me and suck me dry. This was Kieran and so far the only thing he wanted from me was for me to not take advantage of his mom’s kindness.
“You said before that you and your mom have all kinds of connections in town. Do you think you could help me find a job? I don’t—besides being a tattoo artist, I’m not qualified to do much.” Part of me was still terrified about getting the cast off. I stayed awake at night worrying about what would happen if my arm didn’t heal right and I couldn’t make art anymore. I’d already lost so much; I didn’t think I could take losing that too.
For weeks now, I’d been crawling the walls with the urge to draw. Art was my outlet. My escape. It was my friend when I hadn’t even had Archer. And it was still there even when I fucked things up.
“Between Mom, Shane, and me, we know pretty much everyone. I’m sure we can find you a job when you’re farther along in your recovery.”
“I wonder if the casino is hiring?” I went for humor, but the flat look Kieran gave me let me know just how badly it had landed. “That was a joke,” I clarified. “I don’t want to work there.”
“How’s therapy going?” Kieran asked, I wanted to say out of nowhere, but I’d given him the opening with my dumb attempt at being funny.
“It’s therapy. I’m—I’m doing my best to put the work in.” I didn’t know if I was “cured.” It was easy right now to not want to gamble. I had no money. I had no way of gambling. All the temptations had been removed. It was easy not to eat if there was no food on the table. The real test would be when I was on my own again .
Desperate for something to change in my life, I’d been delusional enough to think that money would solve everything. And even more delusional to think that I could strike it rich at the casino. Or the track. Or the fights. Or any of the other things I’d bet on.
“Mom says you’ve been working your ass off.”
Something warm—pride maybe?—bloomed in my chest. When was the last time someone said something that made me feel good about myself?
“I’m just doing what I need to do. It’s no big deal.” I looked out the window, hoping that would signal to Kieran that the current topic of conversation was making me uncomfortable. It was weird to hear people say positive things about me. Even though I’d deserved every bad thing ever said about me, it came as a shock that people could still see anything good in me.
I was sure my therapist would have a lot to say about my self-deprecating train of thought.
“What’s your brother like?” I asked. “I get it if you don’t want to tell me about him, but I’m curious about the guy who fished me out of the hole I dug for myself.”
Kieran took a long, slow, deep breath. “Shane is a good guy. Up until recently, he was a workaholic, but Archer has had a positive influence on him. He works a bit less now, but he still finds plenty of time to dedicate to his charity work. We didn’t always have a lot growing up, and that stayed true until Shane won the lottery. He’s like Mom. He likes to take care of people. And now he likes to take care of people and watch cringy movies from the ‘80s with Archer.”
“Oh, God. He found a new victim. I swear he hasn’t seen any movies that were made after 1995. He’s obsessed.”
“Shane has an ‘80s movie tattoo now.”
“Oh, no. They’re basically married now. ”
Kieran cut his gaze over to me and his smile widened. My heart fluttered and my palms got sweaty. “You’re happy for him.”
Not a question. A statement. My smile faltered, and that’s when I realized I’d been smiling at all. Grinning, in fact. From ear to ear. Because Archer was happy. In spite of the pain I’d caused, Archer had found someone to share his weird old movie obsession with. Someone who was decent and caring and able to take care of him.
“Of course I am. Archer might not be my friend anymore, but I’ll always be his. I did a stupid, shitty, cowardly thing. It was selfish and I’ll never stop paying the price for it. But that doesn’t mean I want Archer to be unhappy.” I cleared my throat and changed the subject before my good mood vanished. I didn’t want to talk about Archer anymore. I’d already guessed that Shane was a good guy, and now I had confirmation that they were stupidly happy together.
“Where is this birdbath anyway? The other side of the country?”
“We’ll be there just after lunch time. We can grab the thing and then get lunch before we head back.”
“I’m sorry your mom felt the need to develop a sudden interest in obtaining inconveniently located items just so she’d have a way to make me go somewhere that’s not my physical therapy appointments.”
Kieran shrugged like it was no big deal. “I don’t mind driving. When I was a kid, I’d always wanted to go on a road trip. Just me and a map. No destination in mind. No plan. Just drive and see where I ended up.”
“Why don’t you do it now? I don’t mean right this second, but now in general.”
“Before, I didn’t go because it wasn’t something I could afford. And now it’s because…” Kieran paused. “I don’t have a good reason for not go ing, besides the fact that Brodie is still gallivanting all over the planet. And if I went too, it would just be Mom and Shane.”
“And by the time you got back, they’d have adopted every stray cat in the shelter.”
Kieran laughed. “Something like that. Maybe someday I’ll go. Truthfully, I’d forgotten that it was something I wanted to do.”
I unbuckled my seatbelt and twisted around, wrestling the cooler over the seat and into the front. I fastened my seatbelt again and flipped the cooler open. “Snickerdoodle?” I grabbed the container I saw Patricia put them in and cracked it open. I held the container out toward him so he could take one. His fingers brushed against mine and my heart fluttered again.
Kieran had touched me countless times. He’d helped me into the truck and out of the truck and he’d steadied me when my balance failed me. But those touches had happened out of begrudging obligation. This time was an accident. A soft touch that I could pretend was on purpose, even if that would never be true.