9. Nine Freya
Nine: Freya
I t had been almost two weeks. Almost two weeks of radio silence at my father's end despite our attempts to reach out. My mother was becoming increasingly frustrated—especially since I'd informed her of how he’d picked up the phone for a few seconds before ending the call—and she continued to apologise to Jackie about how much of an inconvenience we were.
Obviously, Jackie responded by telling us we were welcome as long as we liked.
I hadn’t seen too much of Kaleb. I was either spending my time with Hannah, studying, or working at my once-a-week job teaching art to kids, and he was at the shooting range—or doing whatever Kaleb Evans enjoyed doing.
We’d spent a few awkward dinners sitting next to each other while our moms blabbered about work, but he’d spent most of his time on his phone, purposely avoiding eye contact with me. I’d even refrained from adding salt to my meals since I needed to ask him to pass it.
However, his presence altered my brain chemistry, and I didn’t know why. My stomach twisted, and my heart faltered. I needed to remind myself that he was a cocky jerk who I would probably never see again after I moved out, though. Our worlds were light years apart, and mixing would cause another big bang to occur—the kind that destroyed things instead of creating them.
Peeling myself out of the sheets I’d been rotting in all day, I made my way downstairs, spotting Jackie laying the table. My mother followed closely behind her, holding what appeared to be some steaming pasta dish.
“Oh, Freya,” Jackie exclaimed. “You're awake.”
“I was napping,” I answered sheepishly. I’d spent most of last night sketching, the perfectionist in me forcing my hands to crumple up each piece and toss it aside before beginning a new one that I was determined to get right.
Jackie and my mother took their seats at the dinner table, yet again leaving the only empty chair right next to Kaleb. I shuffled it sideways slightly, which gained his attention, and he rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“I’m guessing you haven’t heard anything from dad?” I asked my mother once I noticed Jackie and Kaleb were engaged in conversation.
“Nothing yet, I'm afraid, honey, but I’m going to try to get a contact number for his work to find out where he is,” she responded.
I felt my stomach lurch. Each passing day he was gone solidified my theory that he was planning on not coming back. The rejection was a stab to the heart, and even though my father and I had never been that close, I hadn’t expected him to pack up and leave when things got tough.
I hadn't even realised I’d been aimlessly swirling my food around on my plate until Jackie cleared her throat to get my attention. Kaleb stood beside me with his hand out, arching his brow.
I gazed at him, confused. “What?”
“I said, are you finished playing with your food like a child so I can take the plates out?”
I blinked, passing him my plate and thanking him quietly. My mom and Kaleb made their way into the kitchen to wash up, and just as I was about to follow, Jackie called me over, seating herself on the couch.
“Freya, I just wanted to check in with you to make sure you're doing alright?” She kept her voice hushed. “You’ve been napping a lot during the day, and I know for some people that’s common, but sometimes that sort of thing is brought on by stress.”
A small smile graced my lips. “Thank you, Jackie. I think the whole situation with my dad is freaking me out a little.” My throat tightened. “It's just hard not knowing where he is and if he's even coming back. A part of me wonders if he's gone for good.”
She clicked her tongue. “Well, if that's the case, then he's a piece of crap. You'll have to excuse my language. Kaleb and Brie's father did that just after Brie was born. He found another woman and left and hasn't called since.”
I pulled my eyebrows together. “I didn't know that.”
Brie was Kaleb’s sister—I’d put that much together.
“I don't believe your father would do something like that, though. Like your mom said, he's most likely living it up somewhere on vacation. Maybe he met a lady out there, you know? He'll get back to the both of you soon, and this situation will be dealt with.”
I forced a smile. My father had never been much of a ladies' man. He never appeared interested in other women—even when my mother and he finally ended their relationship for good. Although, admittedly, I hadn't seen him much recently. Perhaps he had met someone out of state.
Jackie gazed off into the distance, her eyes settling on a photo hung on the wall in the room's corner, a high leafy plant half-covering it. It was of Kaleb and Jackie, with a young brown-haired girl at their feet, clinging onto Kaleb's legs as she beamed. She appeared to be around eleven or twelve, and a younger-looking Kaleb was actually showing an emotion other than irritation—joy. He was smiling, and it was a real smile.
“Brie’s your daughter?”
Jackie nodded, releasing a sigh. “That's my Brie.”
“Where is she now?”
She gazed at me, gulping. “She was thirteen when she was killed.”
I froze, my blood turning to ice, thick inside my veins.
“We’d been out at a Christmas market, and on the walk home, we found ourselves in the middle of a fight between members of a gang. We couldn't move out of the way quickly enough, and Brie was caught in the crossfire. She died in the hospital a couple of hours later from gunshot wounds to the chest and head.”
My face paled. I’d had no idea that Jackie's youngest child had been murdered. “I'm so sorry, Jackie. I didn’t know.”
“It's coming up to the five-year anniversary, and it's always hard.” She took a big breath. “We kept her room just how she had left it that night, and we hadn't touched it since, but when Kaleb was away at base again, I decided we all needed closure. I knew we couldn't leave her room like that forever, and I cleared it out and put all of her stuff in the attic.” Guilt swarmed her tired eyes, and she moved over to the photo. “I should have told Kaleb about it, but I didn't want him to come home and take time off work. He would’ve wanted to keep it the way it was, but it was stopping both of us from moving on.”
It made sense why Kaleb had been so upset about me moving into Brie's room. I felt awful. “No one should have to go through losing a child.” I stood up to inspect the photo, cocking my head as I studied it.
Brie looked so much like Kaleb. Piercing grey eyes. Dark hair. Tanned skin. Gorgeous.
“She was the most beautiful young girl.” Jackie laughed. “Her smile was infectious. She wanted to be a singer and refused to talk most of the time—she’d sing instead.”
“I bet her voice was amazing.”
“I mean, I was always a bit biased, but yes, it was. She won her school's talent competition two years in a row. She’d been preparing for the third year but never got to attend. Sometimes, I play the recordings of her singing at night when I can’t sleep.”
“I'm happy Kaleb is back. It must be lonely here by yourself.”
“It is, but I understand my son has a career he's passionate about and wants to pursue. I don't want to be selfish and ask him to stay.” Jackie’s eyes watered, but she scowled, willing the tears away. “It's why your mother and I aren't as close as we once were. When Brie died, I isolated myself, and although she tried with me, I wouldn't speak to anybody. Kaleb had to look after me because I was bedridden. I just don't want him worrying about me spiralling again. He’s already given up so much.”
Kaleb had a tough outer shell, and it made sense why. I'd assumed he was just an arrogant and moody dickhead, but he’d been through a hell of a lot. His father had abandoned him, his little sister had been murdered, and then his mom had completely shut herself off, and he’d had to care for her—all while being young himself.
“I'm coping much better now, though,” Jackie said. “I just still have my moments.”
“Of course, that's normal. Nobody expects you never to be sad again.”
I felt guilty for mentioning my father and our debt. My situation didn’t even compare to Jackie’s. I was certain she’d take on millions of dollars of debt just to spend one more day with her daughter.
“I know you and Kaleb don't know each other well, but you aren't far off his age, and I wonder if he needs someone younger than me to ask if he's okay. He won't speak to me. He claims the anniversary doesn't affect him much and that he's fine, but I know he's hurt.”
I understood Jackie wanted me to converse with Kaleb to see how he was coping, but he was a closed book. There was no way that he would open up—especially to me, of all people.
“Kaleb has Brent,” I said, smiling. “I know he's a good friend of his. Don't worry, he's not alone.”
Jackie turned to laugh at my mother as she rushed past us with her phone to her ear, mumbling about how work never left her alone. “Thank you, Freya.”
“I’ll finish drying the dishes,” I said, and Jackie engulfed me in a tight hug before I made my way into the kitchen, gazing at Kaleb with curiosity. I opened my mouth to speak, but he furrowed his brows, running his tongue along the front of his teeth as he scrubbed at a plate in the foamy basin.
“I know what you and my mother were talking about,” he muttered, his jaw muscle flexing. “Don't even go there.”