Chapter 32
TOUGH LOVE
Winter
The week following BJ’s accident, I barely slept, but his family and friends rallied in support, and I have never been so grateful to have so many people to keep me propped up, because the what-ifs are terrifying.
And my mom was right there with them, doing everything she could to help me through.
She’s stayed with me for a whole week. She’s cooked and stocked our freezer with easy meals.
She’s baked and made me lunches and done my laundry.
She adores River and the twins and thinks Rose is a hoot and Quinn is one of the sweetest guys she’s ever met. She calls him a gentle giant.
And at night, when I wake up sweaty with nightmares, she’s been there to save me from them.
“I just wish the nightmares would stop,” I tell her when it happens yet again. I had them all the time when we were living with my dad—always afraid the worst would happen, and then it did. “I feel like I’m responsible for this somehow. Like it’s my fault.”
She brushes my hair away from my face. “Why would you think that?”
“You got hurt because I made Dad angry and left you to deal with him, and then BJ got hurt because I didn’t love that Adele was manipulating him, so I started picking him up from practice once a week. Maybe I pushed her because I was taking his attention away from her.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, honey, I know I’ve said this before, but what happened with Clay wasn’t your fault.
I stayed in an abusive relationship for far longer than I should have.
And if it wasn’t for you always defending both of us, far worse might have happened.
You tried to get me to see how bad it was.
I only wish I’d listened sooner.” She sighs.
“You’ve been conditioned to take the blame, and I’m at fault for that.
I let you take that role for far too long, and I’m so, so sorry.
I’m trying to make up for it, and I’m so lucky that you’re as forgiving as you are.
” She looks at me a long moment. “You’re not to blame here either.
What happened with BJ’s partner is not your fault.
If you hadn’t been there, the ambulance might not have been called in time. You saved his life, honey.”
She hugs me and lies with me until I fall asleep again. In the morning, my mom calls Clover, and they set me up with a local counselor. It’s compounded trauma, and I need a sounding board.
When BJ gets the all clear to come home, Mom fills their fridge with easy-to-reheat meals and promises to come back if I need her.
Just over a week after the accident, BJ’s parents bring him home.
Getting from the front door to his bedroom takes all his energy.
It’s hard to watch him struggle, to see his frustration over how depleting it is to walk fifty feet.
He takes three breaks, and I can tell he’s fighting to control his temper, which isn’t typical for BJ.
He’s always even-keeled. But he’s hurting and scared.
“You should really consider coming home, Randall, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks.” Lily crosses her arms, her lips pursed. BJ’s lying on his bed now, covered in sweat, breathing heavy, his pallor somewhere between sheet white and pale green.
I actually don’t disagree with her, though it’s the last thing BJ wants.
“I want to recover here,” he argues. “I don’t want to lose my entire semester over this, and if I go home, that’s what’ll happen.”
“We have to let him try, Lily,” Coach says softly.
I can tell she doesn’t love that, but she concedes. “We’ll be talking daily, and the nurse will make home visits to help change your bandages.”
“I know. The doctor said the same thing before I left the hospital,” he grumbles.
“Can I have a minute with Randall?” I ask.
“Of course.”
They leave the room, closing the door behind them.
I take a seat beside him on the bed. “I know this is hard, BJ. I know you’re in pain and you’re probably overwhelmed, but your parents are leaving in a few minutes.
They’re going to drive back to Pearl Lake, and they’ll talk about how worried they are the entire way.
Do not let them go without telling them how much you appreciate and love them.
They almost lost you. I almost lost you.
I know they’re being overbearing, but give them a fucking break, yeah? ”
He closes his eyes, and tears leak out of the corners. “I’m fucking terrified, Winter.”
“I know.” I brush his hair away from his face. It’s finally clean. They must have gotten him in the shower before they brought him home today. “And that’s a totally reasonable feeling. But don’t take that fear out on them.”
“I’m sorry. My mom is a lot right now.”
“Of course she is. You’re her baby.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m not trying to be a dick.”
“Pain makes it hard to be nice. It shortens the fuse. Tell them you love them, tell them you’ll send them regular updates, and if you can’t manage, you’ll come home.”
“I’m not going home.” He crosses his arms. It’s pretty unconvincing with him lying here all broken and exhausted.
“Okay. But give them the peace of mind they need to walk out the door and not feel guilt or regret. Your mom is already struggling because she feels like she should have seen what Adele was doing. Give her the gift of your appreciation and an assurance that you won’t tough it out like a testosterone-fueled idiot. ”
He stares at me for a few long seconds and uncrosses his arms. “Okay, point taken.”
“I’m going to get them, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. Thank you for not letting me be a complete dickhead.”
“I know it’s not intentional, and I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
I open the door, and his parents come back in. BJ lets his mom fawn and help him get comfortable, and I leave them to have some time before they go.
When they come out a few minutes later, they close his door behind them. “He’s pretty tired,” Coach tells me. “Just the drive home was a lot for him. It’s probably going to be a tough few days.”
“If you think it’s too much, you can let us know,” Lily whispers.
I nod. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
I walk them to the door, and Lily hugs me and thanks me for what has to be the hundredth time for saving her son.
“No way was I letting him go without a fight.” Not when he has such a tight hold on my heart.
For the first few days BJ is home, expectations are low.
He needs to get used to moving around with crutches and heal.
But by the end of the first week, I’m not seeing much progress, and he’s made zero attempts to attend class, citing too much pain and an inability to sit in the uncomfortable chairs.
Sure, he can get to and from the bathroom on his own. He’ll even make the occasional trip to the kitchen when he’s hungry. But he usually goes for easy things, like bags of chips, chocolate bars, and cookies. The empty boxes and bags are strewn across his bedroom floor.
BJ isn’t a neat freak like River, or orderly like Quinn, who spent a couple of years in the army before he started university. But usually, BJ’s lack of order is limited to a shirt thrown over the back of his chair or a stray pair of socks that didn’t quite make it to the basket.
Currently, however, his floor is littered with discarded clothes, and there are empty pop cans on his dresser, along with crushed boxes and bags.
It’s seven on a Friday night, and he’s sleeping, which is a new pattern.
I’ve been staying at my own place at night because he watches TV in bed until late, and I can’t sleep with the noise.
I’m also a bit of a roller-arounder, and I don’t want to bump his leg.
But also? His room smells like the inside of a gym bag.
Communal dinner is at my place tonight. We’re making personal pizzas and salad, one of BJ’s favorite meals.
I knock on his door. “Hey, it’s pizza night. You gonna come to my place and hang out?”
He grunts and pulls a pillow over his head.
“Is that a no?”
He mutters something.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Want to try again?”
“Can you just bring me something back?”
“Why don’t you come over in half an hour. Or I can text you when the food is ready. You don’t have to stay long. It would be good to leave your room, don’t you think?”
“I leave my room.”
“To go to the kitchen. When was the last time you stepped outside? You haven’t even attempted class.”
“Are you really going to get on me about this?”
I bite my lips together. I don’t know what to do or say. I hate fighting. Hate it. “I’ll text you in a bit.” I close his door and trudge back to my house, feeling defeated.
The kitchen is bustling. Lovey is rolling out pizza dough, Quinn is making homemade sauce, River is grating cheese, Josiah is making salad, Rose is sautéing onions, and Lacey is chopping veggies.
“I need help.” I prop my fists on my hips and tip my chin up, because I’m on the verge of tears.
Lovey, Rose, and Josiah drop what they’re doing and fold me into a group hug. Lacey joins them next, and then River and Quinn wrap themselves around all of us.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
“Is that Dracula?” Rose’s nose is smushed against my arm.
I can’t see through the sea of bodies surrounding me. “It sounds like him.”
“Group hug. Want in?” River asks.
“Physical contact is something I try to avoid, but thanks,” Laughlin says.
Everyone steps back, and Lovey gives me a sympathetic smile. “Is it BJ?”
“I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s not leaving his room. He hasn’t even tried to go to class this week. Not once. Not even behavioral psych, and that’s his favorite. The only reason he leaves his room is to get food. I don’t even know if he’s showered.”
“Ew.” Lacey wrinkles her nose.
“His room smells like the inside of a hockey bag.”
“That is accurate,” Quinn agrees.
“I get that he’s struggling, but lying around in bed all day is the opposite of progress. I don’t want to start an argument. I hate fighting, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Rose points a spatula at me. “You could use sex as a weapon!”