Chapter 11
LEE
Savannah and Joey are slowly moving in, but they haven’t left the house since Savannah came home with us from the hospital last weekend.
I love having her in the house all the time.
She makes it feel alive. The walls remind me now of the days I stayed with my grandmother before she passed away.
When Dad would get drunk, I’d flee his house and run to Grandma’s, where everything was safe and everything was okay.
Now my house feels like that all the time as Savannah’s laughter fills the silence.
It all feels too real.
So of course things with my dad take a sharp turn.
Friday afternoon, my phone lights up with the name of the care center. I clear my throat awkwardly and step away from the group of guys that I’d been chatting with in the future blueberry fields. We need to rotate the crops again soon to make sure they’ll be full for next spring.
“This is Lee,” I say into the phone, heart beating double time.
“Hey, Lee, it’s Maisie at the care center. Do you have a few moments to talk about your dad?”
“Yeah, just give me a second.” I step farther away, going with the wind so that my words won’t be carried back to my employees. “Go ahead.”
“His liver enzymes aren’t improving like we’d like. It’s starting to look like liver failure.”
“Oh.” I rub my face, tired already. “What’s that mean?”
Maisie clears her throat. “It means he has cirrhosis of his liver. We’re looking at end-stage liver failure, likely made worse from the drinking, and also why it wasn’t caught earlier on.”
“Oh, okay. So what do you do about that? A transplant?”
Maisie is silent for a very long time. “We can try to get him on the transplant list, but the odds aren’t likely considering his dementia, age, and previous alcohol history.”
“Oh. I guess I don’t understand. What are you saying?”
“This is a complicated decision for you and your family, but mostly you since you’re his healthcare surrogate and he’s not mentally competent to make his own decisions.”
Oh fuck. I have to make all these decisions. I fucking hate this.
“Right.” Because that’s the only word I know to say.
“There are going to be a lot of decisions you’re going to have to make. How about you take some time to think about it, then give me a call back. Or better yet, drop by the facility when you have a chance.”
“Okay. Thank you. Sorry.”
Maisie laughs lightly, then sighs. “There’s nothing to say sorry for, Mister Bradley. I’ll speak to you soon. Enjoy your night.”
Right. Enjoy my night. Ugh. The worst, darkest part of me thinks I should just let my dad die as payback for all the shit he put me through growing up.
But I’ve never been one for payback. I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad orchestrated this situation somehow just to put me through more shit.
I’m torn between sobbing and screaming, which isn’t a good combination at the current moment.
Storm clouds gather to the south for a typical summer storm. The guys in the field wave and run toward their trucks. But I just stand there, unable to move my legs, unable to move at all, unable to barely think.
Life was certainly going too well, wasn’t it?
Lightning forms branches as it lights up the sky in the distance.
The thunder that follows rocks through me.
Goose pimples cover my arms just as the raindrops start to fall and the cool wind blows.
I tip my head back to feel the raindrops falling on my cheeks, my lips, and I lick them away just to try to feel something.
I don’t know how long I stand there in the storm. The lightning gets closer, the thunder louder, and the whooshing of the wind fills my ears. But I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.
Air only returns to my lungs when strong hands grab my arms and curses rend the air louder than the cracks of thunder.
I can smell the earth shaking loose with the rain—the warm, damp scent that reminds me of my childhood hiding in the orange groves.
Hiding from my father. Hiding from my friends who felt love in a way I never had.
“Damn it, Lee.”
I blink and I’m in the cab of my truck, shivering in the cool air. The rain falls hard against the windshield, like glass crashing against glass. The air grows thick when Joey joins me in the cab, his chest heaving with having pulled me out of the storm’s path.
“What were you thinking!”
I wince at his shout. “I wasn’t thinkin’.”
Joey rubs a hand over his face, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It was just terrifying to look out into the field to see your head tipped back like you were askin’ for the storm to take you with it.”
Maybe I was, I almost say. But I know it’ll just terrify Joey.
Instead, I sit there quietly and rub my hands over the wet jeans that cling to my thighs.
Joey sighs tiredly, starts the truck, and points us toward the farm.
He doesn’t stop at the front office though, just keeps driving away, and away, toward home I suppose.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you away for the weekend,” Joey answers without missing a beat. “I had it all planned before seeing you out there hoping a lightning strike would steal you from me.”
“Hey, you’re being a little dramatic.”
Joey tosses a scathing look my way. “You gotta think about more than yourself now. You gotta think about me and Savannah too. No reckless shit, even if it’s stuff you’ve spent your entire life doing. You understand me?”
Oh.
“I understand you.”
“I love you,” Joey says gruffly, but he sounds angry about it.
Which for some reason makes me laugh.
I can’t stop laughing.
I press the heel of my palm to my forehead and laugh until every emotion is bled out of me.
Joey looks a little concerned, but I can’t speak to anything else right now.
So, I just lean my temple against the fogged passenger window and watch the scenery pass by.
The storm doesn’t stop because it’s a tried-and-true summer storm.
It’ll pass by evening, leaving us with a stellar sunset that reminds us all why we live in this godforsaken state.
Joey pulls up under the awning at my house and jumps out, shaking his head hard enough for water to fly from his curls.
I kind of like it when he’s mad at me—I always have—because he’s less gentle and more willing to treat me like he does everyone else.
I follow him into the house with my shoulders up to my ears. But before I can even utter a word, Joey’s got me wrapped in his arms, cheek pressed against mine.
“I love you so much but that was stupid as hell. Don’t do that anymore.”
“I promise.”
Joey sighs loudly, pulling back to meet my gaze. “What happened?”
I duck my head to avoid his too-knowing gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it yet. I really just want to have this weekend with you. I want to forget about everything but you. Okay?”
Joey squeezes my arms hard while letting out a resigned sigh. “All right. But you’ll tell me?”
“I’ll tell you. Now where are we going?”
Joey kisses the tip of my nose before turning on his heel and disappearing toward the bedroom. “Colby let me borrow his beach house for the weekend.”
“Wait, really?”
“Come on, let’s pack and hit the road. It’s a four-hour drive.”
I’ve never moved faster. We shoot boyish grins at each other as we haphazardly throw clothes into one suitcase.
All that I need is underwear and a swimsuit, nothing else matters.
I just want Joey and the beach for two days without any other thoughts.
We end up taking my work truck since it has a full tank of gas, that way we don’t have to stop for gas until we get to the beach.
I put on an old-school country playlist, we lower the windows, and then we hit the road.
Despite the craziness of the afternoon, the air whipping over me makes everything better.
So does Joey’s hand, which is tangled with mine.
For two days I can forget the decision I have to make—all the decisions in the future.
I’m not a soon-to-be orphan this weekend, I’m Joey’s man.
The only thing that would make it better would be if Savannah was with us.
Before school starts back up, we’ll have to take her into the city for the theme parks.
Maybe I’ll even splurge on a night at a hotel to make it easier on all of us.
We haven’t done that since Savannah was in preschool.
The four-hour drive to the beach cottage flies by with highway speeding and Martina McBride on the stereo.
Somehow nothing can feel bad with that combination.
At least not for me. The scenery outside changes from oak trees and moss to brush and marsh, and the scent changes to the warmth of the saltwater brine floating in from the ocean.
We park in front of the beach cottage and hop out, hurriedly walking to the front door.
Joey laughs a little as he struggles with the keys, one hand on the door, the other holding the suitcase, and I’ve strangely never found him more attractive than in that moment.
I can’t help but grab his face to kiss him when we push through the front door.
Joey smiles against my mouth, tasting like every good memory I’ve ever held on to.
“Come on, let’s go to the water before the sun sets,” Joey says.
Joey drops the suitcase in the kitchen, then drags me out through the back doors.
I’ve only been here once before, and it was with the entire group then.
I like the peace that washes over me as I head toward the water with only Joey beside me.
The warm saltwater breeze blows over us, ruffling Joey’s perpetually wayward hair.
The sun is probably thirty minutes or so away from setting, making the entire horizon glow amber and burnt orange.
“God, it’s crazy how good the beach makes me feel,” I say, voice full of awe.