Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
REED
Y ou can learn a lot about a person from their childhood bedroom.
Judging by the trophies that line the top of her oak dresser, Hailey likes soccer. And the cork board tucked behind them with a dozen different push pins through the photographs? Dean really is her best friend. Was, I guess.
A crack of thunder rattles the window. I never did close the blinds, and dark clouds form an angry vortex in the sky. A summer storm is coming.
Her chest shudders in the cradle of my arms. This was not the date night I had planned for us.
Grenaldough’s pizza still sits uneaten on the counter. She cried herself to sleep shortly after he left, and I don’t know if she wants me sleeping in here too, but I couldn’t leave her that way.
I notice goose bumps along her shoulder and drag the edge of a patchwork quilt made of old high school T-shirts up to her neck.
She’s sentimental.
There’s a patch on one of the corners that says Bald Eagle Powder Puffs with a screen-printed camo football below the lettering. I didn’t have to see this one to know she’s tough.
The way she allowed herself to open up to her dad tonight. To get that vulnerable, knowing there was a good chance his words would hurt her, was another level of bravery altogether. I’ve never done that with my parents.
For a long time, I assumed we all had our scars from our youth. And that we heal them by moving on. Doing better for ourselves as adults.
But if there’s anything I’ve learned since leaving home, it’s that the past follows you wherever you go. You don’t get to hide it away when it’s in a glass box of insecurities. There’s no key to lock it shut and throw it thirty feet deep in a lake. You actually have to face it.
For me, I don’t think I’ll ever feel worthy until I tell my father I still think about that day.
I’m a hypocrite though. Offering advice to Hailey and Jack when I haven’t even called my parents since I got here.
In a slow, continuous movement, I drag my arm from beneath her head, transferring her to the nearest pillow. Then I slip from the room and make my way to the front porch, careful to keep my footsteps light.
The phone rings four times before he picks up. “Reed?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“It’s good to hear your voice, son. How’s the job been?”
Exhausting . Exhilarating . Hardest thing I’ve ever done . “It’s been great. How’s everybody else?”
“Oh, you know your mom. Always filling up the schedule.”
So do you , I want to add.
“How are Rex and Ronny?”
I ask to be polite. I know if I don’t, he’ll tell me anyway.
“They helped me get the restaurant shut down for the season last week. ”
Of course, he brings up Bear Shore from a question like that. At least with the place winterized, it guarantees six months before I have to hear about it again.
Nice , is all I say back until our conversation hits a lull and he clears his throat. “So, uh, has your crew heard about that fire in Warren? A news reporter claims it’s up to 64,000 acres.”
“Yep. Been working on it since it started,” I say.
“Really? Are you okay?”
His concern surprises me. But I smile, looking through the window to where Hailey sleeps.
“Nothing an EMT can’t handle.”
The line goes silent for a second, and all I can think about is that day nine years ago. This is my chance to tell him how I really feel.
“Hey, Dad…”
“Yeah?”
“You remember that weekend we came camping here…”
A bunch of garbled tones filter through the speaker, and his voice muffles as he says something to someone on his end.
“Reed, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got to go. We have a big case load, and your mom is on my tail to finish the paperwork before tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I manage, because what else am I going to say? It figures you’d be too busy to have this conversation with me .
“We’ll catch up soon, okay? Tell Jack I said hi,” he says.
You mean the guy who’s doing you a favor? “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
I hang up before even saying goodbye, because what’s the point? This conversation was never about me, as usual.
A feeling simmers at the surface, white hot. Anger? Resentment? Blame? Maybe a combination of all three.
And I’m not sure it’s even him I’m mad at anymore. I chased myself out of town. I messed around with that stick to get his attention nine years ago. It’s me who’s too scared to tell anyone how I really feel.
When I get back to her room, I tuck my phone next to Hailey’s on the nightstand, toggling them both to the silent setting. We could use the uninterrupted sleep.
It takes a while for my mind to settle down with the image of a burning campsite and an unworthy kid haunting it. But the low rumble of thunder in the distance becomes enough of a sound machine and eventually, I drift off to sleep.