Chapter 16
Jeb’s eyelids snapped open, a surge of adrenaline jolting him awake. His heart hammered against his rib cage. A sheen of sweat clung to his back, chilling him as he sat up abruptly. He steadied his breathing as he took immediate stock of his surroundings. Still in the old lighthouse. Still on the makeshift bed on the floor. Skylar’s steady breathing was a soft, rhythmic sound in the silence, punctuated by a tiny snore that brought a smile to his lips. She always denied her snoring, a little quirk he found endearing. Like so much about her.
He looked at the watch on his wrist. 4:00 a.m. He rubbed his hand over his face, waiting for his heartbeat to slow as he remembered his dream. Or rather it was the remnants of a nightmare filled with images of the past he’d rather forget. Walking away from Skylar, his best friend, without saying goodbye or telling her how he felt about her. And mostly, not giving her a chance to tell the full story. He’d judged her before he knew all the facts. All these years later, it still haunted him.
Hell, who am I to judge anyone? As a SEAL, he had blood on his hands. Always for a good reason… or on an order. But that hardly makes me a better person.
He’d been so naive when he was first taken into the foster system. His parents had died, and he assumed the other kids were orphans unless they talked about their backgrounds, giving a different view. The Bakers certainly didn’t make it known why each child was there. It was only as an adult that he came to understand the myriad of reasons a child might be in foster care. And with that knowledge, he wondered about Skylar and the kind of life she’d endured as a small child to be taken from her home. But by the time he was old enough to understand the possibilities, it was too late to find out.
Recrimination sat like a heavy stone in his gut. His hand moved to his stomach, pressing inward to ease the sharp pain. No, it’s not too fucking late… I have a second chance.
Kicking off the blanket, he rose swiftly to his feet, stretching his frame to ease the stiffness from sleeping on the hard floor. While it was true he’d slept in many worse places, age tended to make everyone long for a good mattress instead of a hard, wooden floor for a bed.
It only took two steps to be at Skylar’s bed, and as he loomed over her sleeping form, hesitation washed over him. This was his chance to learn her story and seek the forgiveness he desperately desired. Fearing that it was too late for her to extend the grace he sought, he continued to stand over her bed, taking her in once his gaze adjusted to the dim light. She was as beautiful in sleep as she was with her eyes open and her smile beaming. Will I ever see her beam her light on me again?
Uncertain of what to do, he allowed the slight illumination from his watch to cast its glow over Skylar’s face. Her skin was pale, and her long lashes lay like crescents on the tops of her cheeks. With her eyes closed, the mesmerizing blue was hidden.
Suddenly, her eyes bolted open, and she gasped as he jumped. “What?” she cried out. Sitting up, she bumped her head on his chin. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he rushed to assure her, rubbing his sore chin. “I was just… checking on you.”
Her hand was now clutched to her heaving chest as she breathed rapidly. “Jesus, Jeb! You scared me to death!” After another few seconds of silence, where the only sound was her breathing, she looked up. “Why were you checking on me?”
“I…” Unable to think of what to say, he scrubbed his hand over his head, then plopped down on the edge of her mattress. She scooted over toward the wall, giving him more room. Licking his bottom lip, he whispered, “Tell me about your parents… please.”
She was visibly startled as her whole body jerked. “What? My… my parents?”
Wincing, he pressed on. “Yes. Your parents. I want to know about them.”
The request hung in the air as the silence stretched between them, a chasm that he prayed could be breached.
Her shoulders slumped. “As I said last night, Jeb, it’s all water under the bridge.”
“Not to me.”
At that, her fingers clutched the quilt a little tighter as her eyes searched his in the faint light still coming from his watch. Her hard expression gave evidence that she was going to argue or refuse. He acknowledged that it would have been her right to do so after the way he walked out all those years ago without hearing her side. He held his breath, waiting.
Finally, after a long moment, she sighed heavily, and her fingers eased their grip. “Why?” She tilted her head slightly to the side as her eyes searched his face. “Why now? What does it matter? What can it change?”
Uncharacteristically terrified, he wanted to give her the right words but feared saying the wrong thing. Staring at her guileless face, he went with what was in his heart. “Years ago, when I was young and stupid, I made an assumption. And when I was a little older but still young and stupid, I discovered that assumption was wrong. I reacted poorly and walked away from the best friend I’d ever had. I regretted it, but still wasn’t man enough to figure out how to fix it. By the time I acknowledged how much I missed you, I thought your life had moved on, and guilt had me stay away.” He dropped his chin to his chest, shook his head, and snorted. “I was a shit friend. And not a man I’m proud of.” Lifting his eyes to her, he pinned her with a sincere stare. “Maybe it won’t change anything for us. Maybe it won’t make a difference. Thirteen years may be way too late. But I’m asking you to share your childhood before I got to know you. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”
She twisted her head and stared out over the tiny room, and he remained quiet, hoping she was gathering her thoughts of what to say to him and not to shut him down.
Turning her face back toward him, she heaved a sigh of resignation. “My parents are dead. Now. They weren’t when I was at the Bakers. But as far as I was concerned, even at the young age I was put into the system, they were dead to me.”
By this time in his life, he understood the horrors that parents could inflict on their children. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what they had done to her. But I’m the one who forced the issue, so I’m the one who needs to see it through.
She sucked in a breath through her nose and then let it out slowly. “I don’t know if they ever cared for each other, but they let me know every day that I was a surprise they hadn’t counted on and weren’t happy about. My father drank excessively and could barely hold down a job. My parents were substance abusers. Alcohol and drugs. Most of their money went to support their habit. Feeding and clothing a child wasn’t high on their list of things to do, and that’s even if they remembered they had a child they should take care of. When I was an adult, I read my file from the social worker to see what some of the reports were before I was old enough to remember. I don’t know why… maybe just a morbid curiosity.”
“What did you discover?”
She pressed her lips together and breathed deeply through her nose. “A neighbor who was kind enough to come over to check on me found me in the bathtub, almost drowned when I was only a year old. It was reported, but my mother gave some excuse for why she left the room. This same neighbor reported another time that she saw bruises on me when I was only two. Again, my mother gave the excuse that I was a very uncoordinated toddler and fell a lot.”
“Jesus, Skylar,” he whispered, his voice shakily leaving his lungs.
“I remember always being hungry, but it wasn’t until I was in school that a teacher noticed how small I was. Shorter and much skinnier than any of the other children my age. Social services went in and discovered there was virtually no food in the house, but my parents had another excuse of having to wait for the next paycheck to come in.”
Skylar’s fingers danced nervously over the quilt in a pattern as she avoided his gaze. When she finally spoke, her voice was a quiet echo of a haunted past. “My parents started selling drugs to have the money to buy drugs. I remember being afraid of the people coming in. By the time I was six years old, I would hide in my room with the door locked and sit in the back of my closet, hoping no one would come looking for me. I tried to stay out of my parents” way because if they were stoned, drunk, high… hell, it didn’t matter…. they were pissed off all the time. I was slapped, hit, knocked down?—”
This time, the sound coming from Jeb was a growl. His heart clenched at her words, his fists balling unconsciously. The image of her as a frightened little girl cowering in a dark closet struck him with a visceral pain.
“I would hear noises… arguments… Mom yelling that Dad was selling her for drug money.” Skylar’s body shook as her mind fell back to her childhood. “He told her it was only until I got older.”
Jeb gasped, but she continued. “I didn’t know what that meant. I just knew that when others came to the apartment, I would hide in my closet.”
Silence settled as Jeb’s body vibrated and his fists clenched. “If they weren’t already dead, I’d?—”
She looked up, holding his gaze, shaking her head. “Mostly, I was just neglected.”
Throughout her commentary, her expression hadn’t changed. He’d wanted to look away, feeling the pain of the small little girl who just wanted to be loved but wasn’t even fed enough to grow. The pain inside his chest felt like his heart was going to explode.
His hand slid over the quilt, wrapping his fingers around hers, hoping she’d accept the small gesture and not jerk away. Her fingers twitched underneath his, and he held his breath. But finally, they relaxed, allowing him that simple touch that he hoped conveyed all the emotions swirling inside.
“That day… the day you were leaving for boot camp… when I said I walked away, I meant that. I was eight years old when I first ran away from them. I walked down the street and into a convenience store. I’d never been in one before, and I was stunned to see rows of candy, goodies, things I’d seen other kids have in their lunchboxes that I’ve never even tasted. I didn’t understand that I needed money to pay for them, so I simply pulled things off the shelf to eat.”
“Oh Christ, Skylar.” His lungs ached, and he was uncertain if there was enough oxygen in the air to keep him breathing. “I’m so sorry.”
“The police were called, and I was taken back home. Social services were called in once again.” She snorted. “I have no idea what my parents said at that time. I just know I was slapped hard enough when everyone left to know it wasn’t safe to tell anyone.”
“How did you finally get out?”
Blowing out a long breath, she dropped her gaze to where his hand wrapped around her fingers. She remained perfectly still for a long moment before she lifted her head.
“I finally had a teacher that saw bruises on my body. She and the school counselor questioned me, and even though I was afraid, they were so nice. So I told them what it was like at home. Several other adults came into the room, and I remembered one was the principal. Then a policeman came in, and I was terrified. But the counselor held my hand, and I kept talking. At the end of the day, I didn’t go home but was taken to someone else’s house. They called it a foster house, but I didn’t know what that meant. A nice lady let me sit at a big table in her kitchen, and she fixed me dinner. I’d never had anyone fix me dinner before. And when food was in the house, we never sat at the table together.”
A wistful smile crossed her face, and she closed her eyes. “I can still remember what I ate. There was mac and cheese, which I’d never had. And fried chicken that was so crispy, I kept taking bites even though it was too hot. There were green beans, which I thought might taste funny but were delicious. And a fluffy roll dripping with butter. I had a big glass of milk, and there was even dessert. A chocolate brownie.” Her eyes opened and held his gaze captive. “I was nine years old, and it was the first true home-cooked meal I’d ever had in my life. Over the next few weeks, I was moved into a few other houses before I landed with the Bakers. I asked about my parents and was told that the state had now taken control of me, and I would be placed in homes where I would be cared for and fed.”
He wanted to speak, but the words came haltingly. He wished for the ease of speaking that some of his more articulate friends possessed. Instead, he reached over and covered both of her hands with his, feeling as though just holding one wasn’t enough anymore. “I’ve never been as glad for the Bakers as I am right now. And I’ve never been more sorry for how I took them for granted. And I’ve never been so ashamed for not understanding all the different reasons someone might need to be there.”
Skylar scoffed. “Jeb, there’s no reason to beat yourself up. You were young, dealing with your own grief, and no one could expect you to take on that level of understanding.”
“But by the time I was eighteen years old and walking out the door, my actions were abominable.”
She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, remaining quiet for a moment. Finally, she lifted her chin while shaking her head. “That day was doomed to be miserable, no matter what. I dreaded that day. I’d spent all day in school, taking exams, when my mind was on you leaving. The idea of saying goodbye to you was already ripping out my heart. Stepping into the house, just wanting to see you, and having to hear that my father, who supposedly had gotten clean and was divorcing my mom, suddenly wanted to see me. Seriously? I was going to be an adult soon, and he’d literally been absent my entire life. I”ll never understand why the social worker thought I might want to see him. But that news I could have dealt with. It was the timing that was shitty. Coming right when you were almost ready to leave… Jesus, could it have been more fucked up?”
“The day may have been doomed, but that was not the goodbye I wanted us to have,” he said, his voice heavy.
She swallowed and blinked rapidly. “I was glad to leave my parents, but when you left, I felt as though the best of me also walked out the door. I’ve never experienced such pain.”
Her words hit him in the gut, and he was desperate to make things right. “I have no excuse, Skylar. I was ripped up about saying goodbye and had spent a lot of the day thinking about my parents and wondering if they’d be proud of me joining the Navy. Maybe that’s why I reacted like an ass. Finding out that your parents were alive and mine weren’t… I fell into a black hole and said things I never should’ve said.”
Skylar’s voice softened. “I never talked about my parents after I was finally taken away. Counselors and social workers sometimes told me that it would be better if I talked out my feelings, but I didn’t believe that. Talking about my parents only returned my mind to the closet where I used to hide.”
She swiped her hand over her cheeks, and he realized a tear had escaped. He hated that he was the cause of her tears and clenched her hand tighter.
She looked down at their intertwined hands. “When you assumed that my parents were also dead, I didn’t tell you the truth. It wasn’t that I lied to you, but I didn’t want you to know I didn’t have the wonderful parents you had.”
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken apologies and regrets. Not being a man who came up with words easily, he used his actions. Sliding around on the mattress so that he was next to her, he leaned his back against the wall, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her gently against his chest. A wave of relief washed over him as she came willingly, wrapping one of her arms around his abdomen. They sat, each offering physical comfort in lieu of words.
Finally, he let out a rough sigh filled with regret. “There is nothing I can say that would make the life you were forced to live with your parents any better. And to say that I admire your honesty and resilience, while true, doesn’t change the fact that you had to be resilient.”
“Jeb, I wasn’t the only one who was resilient. You lost your loving parents and had to deal with grief at such an early age. Looking back, how can I even begin to expect you to feel anything else?”
“Still… on the day I left, I wasn’t a kid anymore. I should’ve known better. I should’ve acted better?—”
Another scoff erupted, and Skylar shook her head, twisting slightly to look up at him while staying tucked in closely. “I hardly think that just because you’d turned eighteen, you suddenly had the wisdom of the world filling you. Let’s face it, Jeb. We were lucky to be brought up in a loving foster home. We were both still young and naive. We may have faced things other kids didn’t have to face, but that didn’t mean we suddenly had the maturity to handle all the emotions coming at us. You were dealing with another type of grief, having to say goodbye. So was I. Because saying goodbye to you was going to gut me.”
His arms tightened around her, and he blurted, “I was going to ask you to wait for me.”
He felt her body jerk as she shifted again to face him more fully. “Wait for you?”
“I didn’t want to hold you back. I knew you had to finish your senior year, and you had college plans. I was going to be in the Navy and didn’t know when we might meet up again. I was going to tell you how I felt about you beyond just being best friends. And I was going to ask you to wait for me so we could be together again. I didn’t want our friendship and our time at the Bakers’ house to be all we had.” His voice was a raw whisper. “But I let my inability to handle my churning emotions get in the way. And that I regret more than anything else in my life.”