Chapter 20
Jake
W e got to the hospital as quickly as we could. It looks like Mr. Caulfield had a mild heart attack. He’ll need to stay here for a few days so they can run more tests and observe him, but then they think he should be able to return home.
I can tell Alice is freaking out as she paces the family waiting area. She’s keeping it close to the chest, but I can see the fear in her eyes, and the tension is radiating off her. She’s already lost one parent, and now the other is lying in a hospital bed.
I take a few steps toward her. “Do you want to stay here with him tonight? I can bring you your car in the morning.” My hand hovers halfway between us, but I put it down because I don’t know how she’ll react to being touched.
“I know he doesn’t want me to be here. He doesn’t like people seeing him weak like this. The nurse said he’s stable enough that it would be okay if I went home to sleep and shower before tomorrow.” Alice takes a deep breath and lets all the air out at once. “It’s going to be a long few days, and my dad is a bear at the best of times.”
“Well, the good news is, we don’t need to worry about dinner,” I say, which causes her to huff out a reluctant laugh. There’s enough food to feed the entire baseball team in the backseat of my car.
Inching closer to her, I test the waters and hold out my arms. Right now, she might be just as likely to bite my head off as she is to accept a hug. But she leans in and lets me close my arms around her. It could be my imagination, but I think she’s even squeezing back a little.
“Let’s get you home,” I tell the top of her head.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”
She’s quiet for the whole ride back to her house.
“You don’t have to come in,” she says when we pull into the gravel driveway. “I’ll be fine.”
“Alice. Your dad just had a heart attack. I’m not leaving you alone. Besides, we need to get all the food inside.”
She sighs. “Just…try not to judge the place too much, okay? He’s been sick.”
“Of course.” I rest a hand on her thigh and use my other hand to turn her face toward mine. “I don’t care what your house looks like. I’m not here for decorating ideas. I’m here for you.”
She goes quiet again for a minute, then she nods and gets out of the car. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I gather the bags and follow behind her.
It's been forever since I've been inside the Caulfields’ home. It’s a small two-bedroom cottage on the outskirts of town, not unlike Uncle Tim’s rental, except Alice’s house has never been updated and it’s showing its age. Walking up to the house now feels like the beginning of a zombie movie. All the flower beds are dead, and there are cobwebs on every corner of the porch. There’s a tear in the screen door, and it creaks loudly as Alice pulls it open. She winces as we step inside.
“Looks like the storm did some damage here,” I say, trying to give her dad the benefit of the doubt. There’s no pride of ownership in this property anymore, but I know it hasn’t always been like this. Their family never had much, but when Mrs. Caulfield was here it was clean and well-kept. Tulips bloomed in front of the concrete porch every spring, and she was always cooking something in her extremely tidy kitchen. Obviously, that’s no longer the case.
“Don’t make excuses for him. This place is a disaster.” She sighs and turns to me. “I haven’t had anyone besides Danielle over in a really long time, and even she doesn’t come around much anymore. It’s a lot different than it used to be.”
I take her hand and squeeze it. “Hey. We’re all different than we used to be. That’s not always a bad thing. And I’m not afraid of a little bit of dust.”
She leads me into the main area where the living room, dining room, and kitchen are all segmented into their own small spaces. There are piles of vehicle parts stacked in every corner, motor oil stains on the floor, and trash littered everywhere. It’s like an episode of Hoarders and an episode of Junkyard Wars collided and crash-landed here.
“I’m so sorry. You just wanted some company to look at that house, and now you’re stuck in this mess with me.”
I put one finger over her lips.
“Don’t do that. I’m not stuck. I want to be here. Put me to work. I have it on pretty good authority that you like bossing me around.”
“I don’t even know where to start…” Alice starts to talk, then her voice trails off.
“Okay, so you don’t have to do anything yet. I’ll put the food in the fridge. You rest. It’s been a long day.”
She nods and hugs her hands around her midsection, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes scan the room, and tears start to pool in them again.
“Let’s take a minute and sit on the porch,” I suggest. “You were looking forward to that cheesecake, right? We’ll have a picnic for dessert. Then we can come back in here and do a little bit of tidying up, if you want. But this isn’t your mess, Alice. You aren’t responsible for it.”
“That’s the thing, though. I am responsible. Because if I don’t do it, then no one else will.” The hurt in her voice is cracking my heart in half.
“Here. Let’s go outside and get some cheesecake in you. Then I’ll stay here all night and clean with you if you want.”
Alice closes her eyes and takes a few breaths. When she opens them again, she looks up at me. “This is so embarrassing. I feel like such a failure.”
“Why? You didn’t cause this.”
“My mom made me promise to take care of him, and I…” She chokes on a hiccup and starts blinking rapidly. “I just…can’t. I’m trying. I really am, but…” She spreads out her arms and gestures at the mess. “It builds up so much faster than I can control it.” Then the tears come.
I can’t do anything but listen, and it kills me. It’s like she’s tearing her way into my chest with those bright orange fingernails and slicing my heart to shreds. I want to fix this for her, but I don’t know if I can.
“Listen, your mom was really special, and I’m so sorry she’s gone, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean this. She wouldn’t want to put that on you. She loved you. And you’re the kid in this situation, not the parent.”
Alice nods and sniffles. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that. But I still feel so guilty. I mean, she always had this place clean and looking cute, so I know it can be done, but I obviously suck at it.”
I take her face in my hands and tilt it up while I use my thumbs to brush away some of her tears. “Stop. It’s not the same. She had responsibilities. And so does your dad. She was his wife and a mother. He’s the owner of this house. You are none of those things. This isn’t your job. I can stay and help, and we can try to make this place a little better for your dad, but you can’t make him change any more than anyone else can. You don’t have to be your mom. You can just be you. That’s enough.”
“Is it, though?”
“Yes. Dammit, Alice. You’re more than enough.”
She scoffs at that. “You really don’t need to do this.”
“Yeah, I do. Because you need to hear it. You deserve so much better than this. I’m sorry I haven’t been good at showing you that. But I’m here now, and I’m in this with you. For real.”
“I don’t know what that means, Jake. I don’t know if I can make you the same kind of promise right now.”
“You’ve got enough on your plate tonight. We don’t need to talk about labels for whatever is happening here.” I wave my hand between us. “All I’m saying for now is you deserve a break. I wish I had one of those ancient stretcher things to carry you on while you get fanned with giant leaves and eat grapes or something, but I don’t. So, instead, we’re going to sit out on that porch and eat your weird cashew cheesecake. Then we’re going to scrub the toilet together or whatever else needs to be done.”
She purses her lips and starts to roll her eyes at me, but then her face softens. “Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I’m glad you’re with me today.”
I hug her again. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”