Kick, Push
Page 48
“Get Grams,” I mouth.
At first he’s confused. Then he stands up and gets Grams from just outside the door.
She walks in, her eyes wide in panic.
I point to my throat, and then to Josh sitting in the chair.
Josh’s eyes move from me to Grams when she says his name. “Becca can’t talk anymore,” she says, her tone flat—but the anger behind it unmistakable.
“What?” Josh whispers, looking back at me.
Grams answers, “She had to get her stomach pumped. The tube they stuck down her throat damaged her vocal cords even more. She can’t speak.”
Josh swallows loudly, his eyes on mine, and his jaw tense.
Grams leaves.
Josh doesn’t.
He just sits there.
I look at him.
He looks at me.
And I can feel the clock ticking.
Each second bringing us closer to the edge of never.
“I’m going to fix this,” he says. “I’m going to make it right.”
He can’t.
Grams comes back in. “Visiting hours are over,” she says.
Josh nods and stands slowly. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, okay?”
I nod.
He leans down, his eyes closing as he drops his mouth to mine.
I let him.
But I don’t kiss him back.
Then he leaves.
And he takes my heart with him.
After Grams walks in and takes a seat, I reach over and grab a pen and paper from the tray by my bed. I write a note and hand it to her.
Her eyes move from side to side before lifting and locking with mine.
“Okay?” I mouth.
She nods. “Okay.”
29
-Joshua-
“What do you mean it’s sold?” I ask the guy at the counter behind the only pawnshop in town. “It sold real fast.”
“Can you tell me who bought it?”
He scoffs. Right in my damn face. “I can’t give out that information.”
With a sigh, I almost give up. Almost. “Can you at least tell me what exactly she sold you? Model numbers? Something?”
He sighs too. Not from lack of hope like mine, but from frustration. “Sure man, whatever.” He goes to his computer, taps a few buttons, and prints off a list.
I look over it as I walk a couple blocks to the camera store. I don’t bother asking questions—I have no time. I hand the guy working on the displays the piece of paper. “Whatever’s on this list—I need it.”
“These are old, dude, we don’t carry—”
“So give me the updated versions. And all the lenses too. And whatever accessories you think I’ll need.”
His eyes widen.
I look at my watch. Fifteen minutes before visiting hours start. “Can we make it quick?”
He jumps in his spot. “Sure!”
A six grand dent on my credit card and worth every penny.
I hope it makes her smile.
I need to see her smile.
I walk past Nurse Ruby while carrying multiple bags. She smiles and nods and I pause just outside Becca’s room, waiting for my heart to settle. I check for my phone in my pocket so I can show her the apartments I’d been looking at. She may not want to live with us and that’s okay. At least we’ll be together. That’s all I want.
I step into her room and my heart drops to my stomach.
The bed is made.
The room is empty.
All but for a single note sitting on her pillow.
Josh,
I am broken.
I am sick.
You were my Band-Aid.
I need a cure.
Chazarae answers the door. She must expect what comes next because she opens her arms and lets me collapse into them—the force of my cries the loudest sound I’ve heard in days. “It’s okay,” she soothes. “It’s for the best.”
“I don’t know what happened.” My hands grip the back of her dress, her frail body taking the wrath of my emotions. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
She pulls back, her hands on my cheeks but I can’t see her clearly. I can’t see anything through my tears and through the anger and the regret and the fucking pain. The fucking pain. It hurts so much.
“Please, ma’am. Just tell me where she is so I can make it right. I can’t—”
“Shhhh,” she coos, taking me in her arms again and leading me to the steps. She helps me to sit and I try to settle every single part of me. “She’s okay. She needs to do this—for herself.”
“What happened?”
“It’s not your fault, Josh. I need you to understand that. Becca—she’s had a rough start to life. She’s experienced a lot of things that nobody should have to and it’s time for her to put herself first. To take care of her. She has the opportunity to do that now… and you—you have to let her do that.”
I inhale deeply, and let it out forcefully. “The nightmares?” I ask, turning to her. “Is that—I mean, I knew there was something going on but—”
She nods, cutting me off. Then she takes one of my hands in hers, the other pointing a finger in the air, asking me to wait. She takes a few breaths, trying to stay calm while tears build in her eyes. Her throat bobs with her swallow and I know that whatever she’s about to tell me will change everything.
So I sit.
And I wait.
“When I was sixteen, I fell in love,” she says. “Twice. Once with a boy, my boyfriend at the time, and again with our son. A baby I held only once before handing him to the nurses so he could meet his adoptive parents.”
“Chazarae…”
She keeps her hand up, telling me she’s not done.
“Things didn’t work out for the baby’s father and I. I guess the pregnancy and the child I’d given up had always plagued my mind. I thought about that little boy, more often than I should and while my boyfriend was out being a teenager and living his life completely carefree, I struggled to move on. Eventually I did, but I did it alone, without the boy I once loved so much. And that’s why, Josh. That’s why when I saw you at the store doing everything you could to be the best father you could be—I knew, deep in my heart, I had to help you. I had to do something to make up for my choices in life. I need you to know that I don’t want or expect anything from you. You’ve given me a family, and God has given me grace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I didn’t mean what I said, Chazarae. I owe you a thousand apologies, along with everyone else. I just lost it and I can’t take it back. I can’t take anything back.”
“Hush now.” She squeezes my hand. “That’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m telling you because that boy—my son—he found me a few years ago and he contacted me. I felt like you did, like I needed him to forgive me, but he assured me there was nothing to forgive. You know better than anyone the sacrifices we make for those we love.” She pauses a beat, a shuddered breath escaping her. “He didn’t know about Becca. Not until it was too late.”
“Too late? What does that mean?”
At first he’s confused. Then he stands up and gets Grams from just outside the door.
She walks in, her eyes wide in panic.
I point to my throat, and then to Josh sitting in the chair.
Josh’s eyes move from me to Grams when she says his name. “Becca can’t talk anymore,” she says, her tone flat—but the anger behind it unmistakable.
“What?” Josh whispers, looking back at me.
Grams answers, “She had to get her stomach pumped. The tube they stuck down her throat damaged her vocal cords even more. She can’t speak.”
Josh swallows loudly, his eyes on mine, and his jaw tense.
Grams leaves.
Josh doesn’t.
He just sits there.
I look at him.
He looks at me.
And I can feel the clock ticking.
Each second bringing us closer to the edge of never.
“I’m going to fix this,” he says. “I’m going to make it right.”
He can’t.
Grams comes back in. “Visiting hours are over,” she says.
Josh nods and stands slowly. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, okay?”
I nod.
He leans down, his eyes closing as he drops his mouth to mine.
I let him.
But I don’t kiss him back.
Then he leaves.
And he takes my heart with him.
After Grams walks in and takes a seat, I reach over and grab a pen and paper from the tray by my bed. I write a note and hand it to her.
Her eyes move from side to side before lifting and locking with mine.
“Okay?” I mouth.
She nods. “Okay.”
29
-Joshua-
“What do you mean it’s sold?” I ask the guy at the counter behind the only pawnshop in town. “It sold real fast.”
“Can you tell me who bought it?”
He scoffs. Right in my damn face. “I can’t give out that information.”
With a sigh, I almost give up. Almost. “Can you at least tell me what exactly she sold you? Model numbers? Something?”
He sighs too. Not from lack of hope like mine, but from frustration. “Sure man, whatever.” He goes to his computer, taps a few buttons, and prints off a list.
I look over it as I walk a couple blocks to the camera store. I don’t bother asking questions—I have no time. I hand the guy working on the displays the piece of paper. “Whatever’s on this list—I need it.”
“These are old, dude, we don’t carry—”
“So give me the updated versions. And all the lenses too. And whatever accessories you think I’ll need.”
His eyes widen.
I look at my watch. Fifteen minutes before visiting hours start. “Can we make it quick?”
He jumps in his spot. “Sure!”
A six grand dent on my credit card and worth every penny.
I hope it makes her smile.
I need to see her smile.
I walk past Nurse Ruby while carrying multiple bags. She smiles and nods and I pause just outside Becca’s room, waiting for my heart to settle. I check for my phone in my pocket so I can show her the apartments I’d been looking at. She may not want to live with us and that’s okay. At least we’ll be together. That’s all I want.
I step into her room and my heart drops to my stomach.
The bed is made.
The room is empty.
All but for a single note sitting on her pillow.
Josh,
I am broken.
I am sick.
You were my Band-Aid.
I need a cure.
Chazarae answers the door. She must expect what comes next because she opens her arms and lets me collapse into them—the force of my cries the loudest sound I’ve heard in days. “It’s okay,” she soothes. “It’s for the best.”
“I don’t know what happened.” My hands grip the back of her dress, her frail body taking the wrath of my emotions. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
She pulls back, her hands on my cheeks but I can’t see her clearly. I can’t see anything through my tears and through the anger and the regret and the fucking pain. The fucking pain. It hurts so much.
“Please, ma’am. Just tell me where she is so I can make it right. I can’t—”
“Shhhh,” she coos, taking me in her arms again and leading me to the steps. She helps me to sit and I try to settle every single part of me. “She’s okay. She needs to do this—for herself.”
“What happened?”
“It’s not your fault, Josh. I need you to understand that. Becca—she’s had a rough start to life. She’s experienced a lot of things that nobody should have to and it’s time for her to put herself first. To take care of her. She has the opportunity to do that now… and you—you have to let her do that.”
I inhale deeply, and let it out forcefully. “The nightmares?” I ask, turning to her. “Is that—I mean, I knew there was something going on but—”
She nods, cutting me off. Then she takes one of my hands in hers, the other pointing a finger in the air, asking me to wait. She takes a few breaths, trying to stay calm while tears build in her eyes. Her throat bobs with her swallow and I know that whatever she’s about to tell me will change everything.
So I sit.
And I wait.
“When I was sixteen, I fell in love,” she says. “Twice. Once with a boy, my boyfriend at the time, and again with our son. A baby I held only once before handing him to the nurses so he could meet his adoptive parents.”
“Chazarae…”
She keeps her hand up, telling me she’s not done.
“Things didn’t work out for the baby’s father and I. I guess the pregnancy and the child I’d given up had always plagued my mind. I thought about that little boy, more often than I should and while my boyfriend was out being a teenager and living his life completely carefree, I struggled to move on. Eventually I did, but I did it alone, without the boy I once loved so much. And that’s why, Josh. That’s why when I saw you at the store doing everything you could to be the best father you could be—I knew, deep in my heart, I had to help you. I had to do something to make up for my choices in life. I need you to know that I don’t want or expect anything from you. You’ve given me a family, and God has given me grace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I didn’t mean what I said, Chazarae. I owe you a thousand apologies, along with everyone else. I just lost it and I can’t take it back. I can’t take anything back.”
“Hush now.” She squeezes my hand. “That’s not why I’m telling you this. I’m telling you because that boy—my son—he found me a few years ago and he contacted me. I felt like you did, like I needed him to forgive me, but he assured me there was nothing to forgive. You know better than anyone the sacrifices we make for those we love.” She pauses a beat, a shuddered breath escaping her. “He didn’t know about Becca. Not until it was too late.”
“Too late? What does that mean?”
