Chapter 22 Harper #2
I shut the door and sank down in the chair opposite his couch. Inside my bag, the notebook paper Tessa had given me felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Orion desperately needed a trusted adult on his side, but it still felt like a betrayal. I’d already been so clumsy and heavy-handed.
“It’s delicate, I know,” Wolfe said, reading my mind. “But I feel as if Orion has been abandoned or lost in a system that is so busy gazing upon its own accomplishments, it’s become blind to anyone who doesn’t reek of perfection.”
I nodded. Wordlessly, I pulled out the notebook paper and handed it to Wolfe.
He scanned it. The hallway outside was quiet. Second bell had come and gone. Piano class obviously wasn’t happening, and I sort of loved Ezra Wolfe in that moment. Because finally, finally, Orion had an adult on his side.
Wolfe studied the paper and then folded it and handed it back. “So much of what I’d suspected now makes sense. My old speech therapist taught me more than she realized.” He leaned forward. “Have you ever heard the term ‘twice exceptional’?”
***
I remained in Wolfe’s office until last bell, and then shouldered my bag.
“Thank you, Professor.”
He waved a hand. “I’m not a good person, but every now and then I get something right. The proverbial broken clock.” His brows furrowed with concern. “Do you have an idea where he is?”
“No,” I said, rising and heading for the door. “I’ll try Atlas Hall first. Once I figure out what to do with my little brother.”
“Please let him know I will ensure that this godforsaken institution provides him the resources he needs.” Wolfe’s expression darkened.
“He’s been fighting this battle alone, Harper, but it didn’t have to be this hard.
He won’t like to hear that it never had to be this hard.
” To my shock, Wolfe’s eyes grew shiny. “They all bloody failed him.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice thick. “They did.”
My hand was on the knob when Wolfe said, “Oh, and Harper? The answer to your question is pain.”
“Sorry?”
“Why do I drink if I have young people counting on me? That was your question earlier, wasn’t it?”
“Oh. Yes.” Because I wanted to know. Because all I had was anger. My own pain. And my mother had never given me any answers, only excuses.
“Every addict is filling a hole of deprivation,” Wolfe said. “A need. From the outside, people will label that deprivation attention or fame or money, but those things are just fillers. They’re no different from drugs, or sex, or booze. Because the need, when you dig all the way down, is love.”
I swallowed hard. “That’s what’s missing?”
“Indeed. That essential ingredient. Love that was denied or withheld. That hole is always there, so we cover it up with our substance of choice in order to pretend it’s not there.
But that doesn’t work. It never works. Because as soon as the buzz wears off, the hole reveals itself all over again.
‘Hitting rock bottom’ happens when you fall in.
” He smirked grimly. “How’s that for some two-bit wisdom?
I should’ve been a philosophy professor. ”
I stood very still. I realized I knew nothing of my mother’s childhood.
She never told me of her past. I never knew my grandparents; they died when I was little.
All I ever saw was a string of shitty boyfriends.
Men who used her and left her, one after the other, and the alcohol filling in all those holes where good people should have been.
“Harper,” Wolfe said, breaking me from my thoughts.
“You have every right to be angry at whoever you’re angry at.
I’m not going to tell you otherwise. Trauma isn’t an excuse to treat anyone like shit.
I only said what I said to offer a measure of understanding that it’s not your fault.
I don’t have much to offer except that. Whatever is going on at home, it’s not your fault. ”
I nodded, turned to go, then stopped, clearing the emotion out of my voice.
“Professor Wolfe? You’re not a bad person.”
“No?” He cocked his head. “What am I? Besides someone with a raging headache and an enduring sense of regret?”
“You’re doing your best. You’re helping. A lot.”
Wolfe smiled wanly. “Perhaps I can do better.”
***
I picked up Dash from school, and we came home to find Mom curled in a ball on the couch. I stopped, my heart stopping too, and then pounding a heavy, clanging beat.
Oh God, now what.
“Mom?”
She rolled over. “Oh, hi, babies.”
“Mama!” Dash ran over and threw his little arms around her neck as she sat up. Over his shoulder, she looked tired, her eyes puffy, and it looked as if she’d cried off all her makeup. Her rolling suitcase was by the couch.
“When did you get back?”
“This afternoon,” she croaked.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” Dash asked in a small voice.
“Nothing, baby,” she said. “I…have a cold.”
“There were leaks!” Dash held up three fingers. “This many. Harper was really mad. And sad. Then Orion came over. He’s the best. I wish he’d come back. You’d love him.”
Mom put her hands to her temples. “Slow down, baby. Who’s Orion? What leaks?”
I fixed her with an icy stare. “You miss a lot when you skip town for three days.” I turned to my little brother. “Can you go play upstairs for a little bit?”
“Why?”
“Go. Please.”
He heard my all-business tone and went upstairs.
“Don’t start with me, Harper,” Mom began.
My eyes flared, and it took all I had to remain calm. Ezra Wolfe’s words about pain and love came back to me. I tried to keep them in the forefront of my mind, but I was still too angry.
And I have to find Orion…
“Why are you home early?” I demanded. “I thought you were gone until Sunday.”
“Alan decided that he was going to give it another go with his wife. He called the trip short and fired me.” Mom began to cry. “Happy? You got what you wanted. He’s out of the picture and I got dumped. Again.”
“You think this is what I wanted?” I said, my voice rising. “You think I want any of this? You left us in the middle of a hurricane. Abandoned us for some asshole who—big surprise—abandoned you.”
“I know, I know, you had some fancy party to go to. With this Orion person?”
“Forget the damn party, Mom. It’s the drinking. It’s the fucking drinking.”
“I’m sorry,” she cried, covering her face with her hands. “I try not to, but it’s just so…hard.”
“I get that, but you can’t not try. You have to keep trying, every day, all day, for us. For me and Dash. And for you.” My voice quavered, but I fought for calm. “Look at me, Mom. Look at me.”
She pulled her hands from her face with a petulant jerk. “What, Harper. What? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Okay. You’re going to get another job. You’re going to go back to AA meetings, and you’re going to get a sponsor. Someone to be accountable to, because I can’t do it anymore. I’ve been doing it my entire life, and it’s not fair.”
“Your entire life…” Mom scoffed, then read my expression. “Okay, okay. And? What’s this about leaks?”
“The roof needs to be replaced. It’ll cost $9,500. We’re going to pay for it from savings.”
The color drained from Mom’s face. “We can’t. That’s all of our savings. I don’t have a job. What if I can’t find one? What about next month’s mortgage?”
“Then you’d better figure it out. If we don’t fix it, we could get black mold that will make us sick. Make Dash sick.”
“You are not in charge here, young lady—”
“Yes, I am!” I screamed, like a slap to her face. I inhaled sharply, calming myself. “You leave me no choice. I’m eighteen. If you don’t do everything I say, I’ll leave and take Dash with me.”
“You can’t.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Your school…”
“Now you care about my school? You didn’t care when you drove off with Hensley three days ago. If I can win the NoSci, it’ll take care of the debt. But I need you to get your shit together.”
Mom stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. “I don’t like how you’re talking to me right now.”
“You don’t have to like it,” I said. “But you have to do what I say. Because walking out on us was unacceptable.” Tears filled my eyes, and this time there was nothing I could do to stop them. I stood up. “I know you’re hurting, but so are we.”
I went to the kitchen, opening cabinets. “Is there any alcohol in this house?”
“No.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
“Because I have something to do, and I need to know I can leave you with Dash—”
“Jesus, Harper.”
I stared, incredulous. “You really believe you can be trusted right now? After the shit you pulled?”
She held my gaze defiantly a moment more and then gave in. “There’s no booze, I swear. And I’ll keep it that way. What do you have to do? Where are you going?”
“I’ll explain later,” I said, and hurried for the door.
“Harper?”
I stopped, shoulders hunched. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
But the words sounded light and empty. I’d heard versions of them a hundred times, and they never amounted to anything.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay? That’s it?”
I turned and faced her. “I love you, Mom, and so does Dash. But that’s not enough, apparently, so okay is all I have right now.”
And then I went out into the November cold, first walking to my car, and then running, to get to Orion.