Chapter 52
Note to self:
First, the truth.
Then, the pie.
I could hear the yelling before we’d even reached the room. Dad and Abe, both of their voices raised in anger. I was immediately transported back to when I was a teenager, and they’d go at it constantly.
“What happened?”
Mack shook his head. “Your dad got upset because Abe had too much to drink last night. He started laying into him about how his choices affect Hallie now. One thing led to another. Same argument, different day.”
As a kid, I would have never waded into the middle of one of their arguments. But now? Now I would not lose my brother again. Even when that meant telling the truth about everything. Even if that meant my parents’ anger. Or worse, their disappointment.
“Where’s Hallie?”
“With Frankie and Ruth.”
“Okay.” I knocked. Then I knocked louder. I wished Theo were here with me; that strong, quiet way of his always made me feel better. But Theo might be moving to Chicago, and I probably shouldn’t depend on his presence. My chest squeezed painfully.
One thing at a time, Ramos.
Dad ripped the door open.
“What?” But when he saw it was me, he smiled although it didn’t hide the anger in his eyes. “What do you need, honey?”
“Everything okay in there?” I leaned to the side to see who was in the room.
“Your mother and I are talking to your brother.”
Mom didn’t seem to be doing any of the talking, but whatever. “I want to come in.”
“It’s not a good time,” he said, a mulish expression on his face.
But two could play that game. I crossed my arms and shot back the same stubborn look. “That’s too bad. I want to be here.”
He glared at me for a long beat and must have seen I was serious. “Fine.”
Mack touched my shoulder. “You okay?”
I nodded, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. “Yeah, I’m going to be okay.”
“Of course you will.” Mack pressed a kiss to my cheek before turning around and heading back down the hallway, Karen trotting at his heels.
I breezed past Dad. Mom was perched on the bed, hands twisting in her lap. Tears stained her cheeks, but she gave me a trembling smile. I sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Abe stood by the window, shoulders slumped, staring off into the distance. Probably wishing he were back in Denver about now.
“Happy now? You got your sister involved in this,” Dad said, his tone harsh.
“Dad.” Abe sounded defeated.
“Don’t ‘dad’ me. You’re a father now. You don’t get to go out and get drunk and forget your kid.”
“I didn’t forget her. I already told you that. She was with Mack all night.” Abe turned around to face Dad. “Why can’t we ever just talk to each other? Why does it always end up with someone yelling? I can’t do this anymore. I’m not a child; I’m an adult. I have a business, a house, a kid. Maybe you and me, we’re not meant to have a relationship.”
Mom gasped and clutched my hand.
Dad slumped. “I didn’t mean?—”
“We can say we tried, and it didn’t work out. I’d like to stay for the wedding, and then you don’t ever have to see me again.” Abe stalked toward the door. I stood, trying to get my mouth to open to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t seem to make my throat work.
“Run away again,” Dad bit out. “That solved nothing eleven years ago, and it won’t solve anything now.”
“Dammit, Dad.” Abe whipped around. “What do you want me to do? If I stay, you’re upset. If I leave, you’re upset. There’s no good choice for me.” He pointed to the bed. “Mom is crying. I don’t want to make Mom cry, I don’t want to run away. Last time, I left because it was the only thing I could do.”
The two of them stared each other down, a strange mix of yearning and anger rolling off them in waves. Mack was right, they were too much alike. Abe was a younger version of Dad. I hoped for, no, I needed these two to find common ground. I wanted Abe back in our lives, but they couldn’t keep circling each other like wounded animals, lashing out to hide their soft underbellies.
I licked my very dry lips. While that accident didn’t start all this, it had played a part in widening this rift between them. I had to do this. I said a prayer and then I spoke.
“It’s not Abe’s fault.”
Abe scowled. “Ali, stay out of thi?—”
“No.” I slashed a hand through the air in frustration. “No. I’m not going to anymore. Cal wanted so badly for Abe to be here, for our family to be together, and you are both so stubborn that you can’t figure out how to admit when you’re wrong.”
“Alicia, honey,” Mom said. “You know getting upset can trigger…”
“…a seizure? Yeah, yeah, I know. Oh, God, do I know it. You never let me forget. I’ve lived with epilepsy for over a decade and guess what, I’m doing just fine. I’m trying so hard to live my life but…” I forced myself to take a calming breath. “You’d think the hardest part of dealing with it is that I never know when I’ll have another one. But that’s not it. You know what keeps me awake at night? Feeling guilty because I have so many people worried about me.”
I swiped at my cheeks, annoyed I’d started crying without realizing it.
“I want to live my life. I can’t keep hiding out in my apartment or answering your calls twice a day. I can’t keep worrying that you’re worrying.” I straightened. “I am not broken.”
Mom’s head jerked in surprise. “Of course you aren’t broken.”
“Then stop treating me like I am.” Before she could answer, and since I was on a roll, I turned on my heels and faced my father. “Did you know Abe has dyslexia?”
Abe grunted. “Ali.”
“Shut it. Stop trying to be an enigma and talk to your parents.”
“Is that true?” Mom asked.
He nodded once. “I found out when I took some business classes in community college.”
“That’s why school was so hard for him,” I said. “That’s why he struggled. It wasn’t because he was lazy or not trying hard enough.”
Dad flinched at that. Good. Maybe something would get into that head of his. But I wasn’t done yet.
“And the car accident?” Say it, Ramos. You can do this. “It wasn’t Abe’s fault.”
“Yes, it was.” Abe’s eyes drilled into my head; I ignored him.
“No, it wasn’t. I was driving the car. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but I begged him to let me.”
A wave of exhaustion hit me, and it had nothing to do with lack of sleep. It was as though my body had been using so much energy holding this in for years and had finally found relief. “I was so angry at everything. The seizures, giving up almost all my independence, you and Dad with all the rules.”
“The rules were to keep you safe.”
“I couldn’t drive or spend the night at friends’ houses or go swimming without it being a big ordeal. I had to have someone come with me when I checked the mail at the end of the driveway.”
Mom winced. “We didn’t know when you’d have another one.”
“I understand. As an adult, I get it. But I hated it. All the decisions were out of my hands. It made me so angry. So, yeah, I begged Abe to let me drive the car and he did.”
“What happened?” Dad asked.
Keep going, Ramos. “I had a seizure while I was driving.”
Mom gasped. “You could have died. What were you thinking?”
“I already told you what I was thinking. I was a dumb, angry kid who’d lost all her independence and I needed to feel a little bit of freedom.”
“I never should have let her talk me into it. I thought a short drive wouldn’t be a big deal,” Abe said, his voice low. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
I pressed my hands to my too-hot cheeks and found them wet. Damn tears. “And then this idiot took all the blame for it. By the time I figured out what he’d done, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I was scared I’d disappoint you or you’d be so upset, you’d take away more from me. I’ve been scared since that accident. Scared to drive, scared to upset you and Dad, scared to do a lot of the things I want to do because I don’t want to worry anyone. But being scared, it’s holding me back from doing a lot of things.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom wrapped me in a smothering hug. “I don’t know whether to be angry or relieved right now.”
“Be both. I can handle it.”
Mom stepped back and wiped my cheeks, her smile small but comforting. “We need pie.”
“Yes, pie would be wonderful.”
She took my hand. “Let’s go find some and we’ll talk.”
“I’d like that.”
I followed behind her but when Dad and Abe made to follow, too, I stopped and turned, glaring at them both. “You two do not deserve pie. The both of you need to sit down and figure out how to talk to each other. Talk, not yell, not ignore each other. Talk. What time is it, Mom?”
“A quarter after eight.”
I poked them both in the chest with my finger. “You have two hours. Together in this room. No leaving and no yelling. Quit being so damn stubborn and figure it out.”
Mom nodded. “What she said.”
With a smile, I took Mom’s hand. “Now, let’s go find some pie.”