Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
“Was a peaceful way to go,” my mother’s boyfriend tells me. “Weakened heart, the doctor said.” Willy, Billy—whatever—shifts his feet. “I’m sorry to bring such sad news. I knew you’d want to know right away. Been keeping Tyler company until you got home.”
I swallow, my chest rising on a shaky inhale. “Just tell me one thing. All this time, the money I’ve been giving her, was it for drugs?”
Did I help put my mother in an early grave?
My mom’s boyfriend glances down. “Some, but she was living on scraps. You kept her fed. Wish I had been better about caring for her, but the itch got to me too.”
My hands are cold, shaking. I look down and stare at them. “Thank you for coming,” I say, going on automatic. “Do you need anything? Food or…?”
“Naw, I’m good. I’ll just—” He grabs his beer and walks toward the door. He stops a foot away and pulls out an envelope from his back pocket. It’s folded in half, the edges gray from dirt. “Found this in her things. Think she wanted you to have it.”
I stare at the envelope that Tyler takes for me, because I can’t seem to move my arms.
Tyler mumbles something to the guy and walks him to the door.
A moment later, I’m being wrapped in an afghan. Tyler picks me up and cradles me in his strong arms. He sinks onto the couch, and my body molds to his.
I think I should cry, but my tear ducts aren’t working, or my facial muscles. I am frozen.
We sit like that for what seems like hours.
I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, Tyler is gently setting me aside, re-tucking the blanket around me.
He goes to the front door and pulls it from the sticky jamb.
Lewis is on the other side. And he looks a mess.
His hair is standing on end—which is so not him.
Tyler’s the one with the messy hair that I love.
“Mira,” Lewis says, and crouches beside the couch where I’m curled in the fetal position. “I heard. I’m so sorry. For everything. I should have talked to you sooner. I was worried about your relationship with your mom and I didn’t handle it well. I thought it would be you instead of…”
“You thought I’d die first.”
He nods.
Deep down, I thought I would die first too. I was supposed to die in those woods, or by the hand of one of my mom’s abusive boyfriends. I don’t know how to deal with this new reality. It feels no less awful.
Gen and Lewis stay the night in the bedroom, and Tyler and I sleep on the couch because I have no energy to move from where I am.
Day turns into night and night day, but my internal clock is off.
I am fully awake in the evening and doze during the day while visitors come and go.
John and Becky bring food. Nessa and Zach are here, then gone, then back again.
I can’t keep track. My brain is as cold and slow as my hands.
And the whole time, Tyler holds me. When I’m not cradled on his lap, I am tucked next to his side.
If anyone notices, they don’t say anything.
On day three, or four, I’m not really sure, I take a shower.
I stand under the warm stream and the heat loosens the fist that’s had a grip on my chest since my mother’s boyfriend shared the news.
Warmth pools around my heart, my throat goes salty and dry.
Tears begin to pour from my eyes. A keening sound pierces my ears. Coming from me?
I can’t breathe. I am gasping and choking from the tears and the shower water sluicing down my face.
A loud pop sounds outside the shower curtain.
The bathroom door handle being busted off.
Tyler walks in and shuts off the water, wrapping me in a towel.
He carries me out of the bathroom and up the ladder to the loft, one hand under my knees as I cling to his shoulders and neck.
He tucks me under the covers of his bed and curls his body around me, while I weep for a mother who never loved me.
Who left me.
For good.
The next morning, I wake to light streaming through the small window in Tyler’s loft. His face is unshaven, and he looks as if he’s gone a good week without a razor. His short beard is red.
I take in the smooth skin above the facial hair, the way his dark lashes fan out above his high cheekbones. He is beautiful.
I kiss his nose.
A thick arm tightens around my waist and his eyes flicker open. Tyler raises a hand to my forehead, brushing the hair back. “I’m sorry,” he says.
I cuddle in closer and Tyler holds me tight. He said I wasn’t alone, that I had other people besides my mom and Lewis’s family, but it wasn’t until I lost my mom that I believed it.
I pull back and look into eyes that hold a touch of shadow beneath, as if he hasn’t had much sleep either. “Let’s get dressed and take a walk.”
Tyler makes me toast and eggs while I change into jeans, flip-flops, and a light sweater. We eat breakfast, then walk into the bright morning light. I touch the envelope I tucked in the back pocket of my jeans as we head for the lake a few blocks away.
Birds chirp, a few cars pass us on their way to places unknown.
The world should be a dark place, but it isn’t.
The sky is bright blue, the crisp scent of the pine and soil cleansing the air.
There is laughter as we near a busy intersection.
Life goes on, and it seems happier than the one I’ve lived in.
We cross the boulevard that divides the lake from the strip, and I walk down a flight of stairs to the sand.
A portion of an old cement pylon rests at the foot of the stairs and I climb on top, staring out at the lake, mesmerized by its constancy.
Tyler stands beside the pylon, picking up rocks and tossing them into the shallow waves.
I pull out the envelope from my mother and open it. Tyler climbs up and sits beside me, close, but not crowding, his gaze on the water.
I unfold lined paper it appears my mother tore from a spiral notepad.
Mira,
This has been gnawing at me, but I never can get it out when you’re around, so I’m saying it here.
Maybe one day you’ll find it. I wish you could have known your daddy.
He was a handsome son of a bitch, a charmer.
And one day he was mine. I never felt so good as when your daddy was mine.
I was happy when you were born, but then your daddy left me.
You’re not a bad kid, just a reminder of losing him.
But you’ve been there for me, and that’s more than I can say for most people in this rotten world. You’re different, girl. A good kid.
Mom
My breath hitches. Tyler’s arm snakes around my shoulders, holding me up. I fold the note carefully and place it in the envelope.
All these years I thought I wanted my mom’s love, and I did, but this means something too. I’m different from her and my father. Even my mother acknowledged it, and for once she didn’t seem disappointed.
“Tyler, I think I want to be alone for a couple of days.”
He stares down at me, confused. “Why? I don’t want to leave you.”
I look out at the lake, the pain, the sadness eating at me. At the same time, I am filled with a sense of relief, which frightens me. I don’t know what it means.
“You aren’t leaving me. I just need to be alone for a little bit.”
He leans down and hugs me tight. “If that’s what you want.”
I’m not sure what’s going on in my head, which is why I think I need this. “It is.”