Chapter Twenty
Bryce
“Yes, Daddy. Of course I can hear you.” Daddy is silly. I’m right here. Doesn’t he see me?
I did so good at basketball tonight. I scored a basket, and Daddy was so excited—he was the loudest in the entire room. I got fist bumps from everyone on the team—even our coach.
My dad is talking so loud now too. I asked him to stop, but he’s still talking to himself.
“Daddy, it’s a booster. Mommy called it a booster yesterday. Because I’m big now. See?” My muscles are so big now. That’s how I scored the basket. Daddy is so impressed when he squeezes them.
“Can I have my ball, Daddy?”
That’s my new ball. “Thanks.” This thing is so cool. It’s bigger than my last ball. That one was smaller, for little kids. This one bounces better too.
“What do you mean? Where’s Mommy?” What is Daddy talking about? He’s acting weird. Maybe he’s not feeling well.
“You’re welcome, Daddy.” Finally, we’re moving. I want to get home and have my ice cream.
“Daddy, are you feeling good? Did you get sick at the game? It was such a good game. I ran so hard across the court, and when I threw the ball, it went so high and into the basket. That was so great, right, Daddy?”
“And when we get home, Mommy is going to want chocolate because that’s her favorite, but mine is vanilla with sprinkles. It has to have sprinkles, Daddy, okay?”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
That sounds so cool. Look how fast it comes back to me. This ball is awesome. I can’t wait to show Mommy this trick.
“Daddy, look. Look.”
“I see, buddy. Daddy’s trying to drive—yes, I’m paying attention, babe.”
Why is Daddy fibbing? That’s not nice.
“Daddy, pay attention!”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Ssshhhhhh. I can’t hear him if I don’t talk, right? That’s what Adam said in school the other day. Adam’s so smart.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Aaahhhh! Daddy, my ball.”
“Shit, honey, hold on.”
“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”
“I’m sorry, buddy.”
“Daddd, my ball. Get it. Get it. Pleeeaassseeee.”
What if it’s gone? What if it went out the window?
“Buddy, Daddy’s trying, please.”
Maybe he can’t hear me.
“Pleeeaaassseeee. I need it,” I scream even louder.
Yay! He got it! “Thanks, Daddy!” I think he’s smiling, but the light is in my eyes.
My ball flies out of my hand, and Daddy falls into the front window on my side of the car.
The glass flies everywhere and scratches my face before I can get my hands up.
The loud noises hurt my ears—it sounds like a dinosaur chewing on the cages in that movie and screeching like in the car racing shows Daddy watches.
My body shakes in my booster, and it feels like we’re spinning, like on one of those rides at the carnival.
I want to cry, but it comes out as a scream and makes my throat hurt. I hear Daddy groaning and then everything stops spinning. It’s so quiet. My chest is doing that pounding thing like when I run really fast.
“Daddy?” I don’t hear him anymore.
“Hey, are you guys oka—” Who is that? “Someone call 911, now!”
“There’s a kid in the back.”
“Daddy, I’m scared.” My hands are on my face, and I don’t want to take them away, but my face starts to burn. Where’s Mommy? “Daddy, I need Mommy.” I wipe the tears when I move my hands.
“Kid, what’s your name? Are you okay?”
“Don’t move him.”
I hear a man through the open window, but I can only see Daddy. His head is lying on the window edge, and his mouth is open. I think it’s raining because his hair looks wet in the dark. The sirens sound like firetrucks coming. Maybe they’ll help us.
“Daddy, wake up,” I whisper, but I don’t think he can hear me.
“Hey, buddy. What’s your name?” The man keeps talking to me, but I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.
“Daddy, please wake up.”
“Somebody get me a blanket or something, now!” Why is he screaming? Why isn’t he waking up my dad? Shouldn’t someone be helping him?
I reach out to shake him, but he’s too far away. “Wake up, Daddy. Wake up, please. I’m sorry. Say something, please. I’m sorry.”
The light on the ceiling turns on, shining in my burning eyes for a second before I see my dad’s face.
“Hey, sweetie. You’re okay. We’re here to help.” She sounds nice, but she needs to help my dad.
It’s not raining, but the man by the window puts a coat over my dad’s red-soaked face as the nice-sounding lady starts touching my wrists and shining a light in my eyes.
“Look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me. Okay?” I do as the nice lady says.
“I want my mommy.”
“When the car stopped and they finally turned on a light, I could see his bloodied face.” Bodie hands me a tissue and quietly waits for me to continue.
“I didn’t understand what was happening, but I could tell he wasn’t okay.
I kept begging him to wake up. When the paramedic got me out of the car, I lost it.
All I remember was screaming for my dad, begging for her to let me see him—to wake him up.
They put me in the ambulance, and I just knew…
” Bodie’s embrace is firm, safe. “I knew it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t. He decided to take his seat belt off.”
“It was, Bode. He wouldn’t have gone through the light if he wasn’t worried about getting me my ball back.”
“You were a child. He made an adult decision.”
Deep down, I know he’s right.
“They brought me to the hospital, and my mom showed up a little while later.” I remember my mom’s face when she first saw me—her eyes were red, and she looked mad.
“She was already a mess. Barely spoke to me aside from asking if I was okay and comforting me while the doctors did every test under the sun on me.”
My chest tightens more with every word I utter.
“I didn’t know then, but I found out when I was older that she was on the call with him when the accident happened.”
“Did she tell you?”
“No. I kind of figured it out on my own in high school. Confirmed it when I found the accident report years later.”
I roll over to grab the bedside pail and bend over the edge of the bed while Bodie rubs my back. I’ve only ever talked to one other person before this, and they betrayed me. It’s too much.
Bodie gets out of bed, and my heart sinks because I need him here with me, but he comes back with water and napkins.
“Here. Sit up if you can.” It makes me think back to a couple months ago, when this new us started. I want to smile, but I just can’t right now. “Take a sip.”
With our feet on the wood floors, legs touching side by side, I feel grounded again. He has no idea the strength he gives me—neither did I until recently.
“If I wasn’t screaming for my ball, my father would still be alive today.” The air in my lungs leaves like a leftover gust of wind in the aftermath of a hurricane. “I’ve never said those exact words aloud before. It feels weird.”
“Weird in a good way or bad way?”
“Good, I think.”
“When we met, your mom was still in a bad place. I think you had your aunt staying with you, right?”
“Yeah. My mom’s sister. She came to help while my mom grieved. She stayed for about a year. I don’t remember a lot of that time with her. My therapist said trauma has a funny way of erasing memories on us, but it’s usually not the bad ones.”
“What happened to her? I don’t remember seeing her after those first few times.”
“I’m not positive. I know she died a few years later when we were in fourth grade.
Mom never told me what happened, though.
I kind of sensed it was a sore subject, so I never asked.
” Just saying that, I feel more guilty. “She was good to me. I should’ve asked, but Mom was still a mess after she left.
Your mom stepping into the picture helped her more than anything. ”
“I remember.”
“I never said anything to her about it. I was always afraid of sending her back into that dark place.”
“You said you told an ex-boyfriend about all this?” I can hear the hurt in his words, and it kills me that I did that to him.
“Josh.”
“I remember you breaking up with him after maybe six months, right?”
“Mhmm.”
“I can’t say it upset me.” I give him a half-smile at his honesty.
“I wanted to tell you, but I was convinced whoever I told would blame me, like I did. I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that about me.
” I lie back on the bed, hiding beneath my arm.
Bodie knows exactly what I need, because he lays his body over mine, holding himself up on his elbows to give me just enough room to not crush my lungs.
“I wish you would’ve,” he says into my chest.
“I was going to, until I decided to tell Josh to see his reaction. It wasn’t what I thought it would be at first. He understood and comforted me.
A week later, I was getting ready to tell you, but then I caught Josh with Spencer.
We argued back and forth until he threw it in my face—what happened with the accident.
” My throat is scratchy as I force out the words.
“He said he could never love someone who killed their father.”
“You know he was just deflecting to make it your fault and not his, right?”
“After a few years, sure. At the time, my mind went straight to survivor’s guilt, blaming myself like the seven-year-old in that car did—right to the version of me that watched my mother grieve in her depression for years before she found her way out. For the longest time, I believed he was right.”
“You didn’t kill your father, and Josh is a piece of shit for betraying your trust.”
“I’ve finally come to terms with both of those things, but it doesn’t ease the pain of having seen my mother go through that. They really loved each other, and she never remarried, obviously. I don’t even think she dates.”
“Maybe you should finally talk to her about all of this. Get it off both of your chests.”
I try to remember any time my mother has ever gone out with a man since my father passed away. She’s never even introduced me to any male friends in all these years.
“Yeah, maybe.” I roll us over and wrap my arms around him. “We should probably get out of bed soon. I have to get to work.”
“I missed you.” The vulnerability in Bodie’s whispered confession has me wanting to call out of work and spend the rest of the day in bed with him.
“I missed you, too. Let’s not fight anymore, please,” I say with my lips against his.
“I think that’s a great idea.” Bodie sighs as I firmly press my lips to his before turning to send a text to Kasey, who owes me one.
“What are you doing?” Bodie asks when I pull the covers back over us and snuggle under them with him.
“We’re going to stay in bed for a few more hours. Then we’ll make dinner and veg out with a bunch of blankets in the living room while we watch a movie with lots of snacks until it’s bedtime again.”
“I like the sound of that.” The way Bodie purrs as his hands go for my waistband gives me pause before I push his fingers away.
“Later. Sleep. Now.”
“You’re such a cockblocker.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”