Life After Taylah
Page 21
“You can’t be with someone forever just because your father wants it.”
“He’s all I have, Nate. What else am I to do?”
“Live,” he offers. “Love.”
“And leave him to do what?”
“Figure it out on his own.”
I shake my head and look at my fingers. “She went missing when I was just thirteen years old,” I whisper.
“Your momma?”
“Yeah. She smiled at us as we walked out the door for the bus and we never saw her again. They searched; they investigated. All they ever found was her car on an old abandoned road. No clues. No blood. Nothing. She just vanished. That was ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry, Avery,” he says, softly. “I don’t know how that would feel.”
“People think it’s something that only happens in movies or in books. I mean, how can a person just go missing? There are so many theories. One is that she stopped to help someone—which is something my mother would do—and she was taken. The other is that she has taken her own life and they never found the body—maybe she jumped into a lake or the ocean. It’s unlikely; she was happy. The third is that she is alive somewhere, and not wanting to be found. That hurts more than all of them.”
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think something happened to her, I just don’t know what. She wouldn’t leave us. She was one of those mothers—the ones who live for their children.”
“Do they still look?”
I nod. “The investigation will always be open, I suppose. If they have leads, they investigate them. We’re kept in the loop as much as possible. The police have come to know our family very well.”
“I can imagine.”
We sit in silence for a long while.
“Liam is hurt,” I say. “So hurt. He hates my father—he thinks Dad favors me. It’s not like that. I try to stand by my father because I know how hurt he is. I don’t like it though, not one bit. He hardly speaks to me. There is no emotion left in him. I’m scared if I walk away and don’t do as he wants, that he’ll just break for a final time.”
“Now it makes sense,” he murmurs.
I turn to him, but he keeps speaking.
“You think if you don’t do what your father wants, you’re letting him down. You’re scared it’ll be the end of him, because he won’t be able to cope.”
I turn back and stare at the ocean.
“You can’t live like that, Avery. It’s not fair to you.”
“I’m fine with it, Nate. I care about Jacob.”
“Is that the truth?”
I turn to him. “Yes.”
It’s not.
He sighs and drops it. “All this sadness calls for only one thing.”
I look at him as he stands and stretches his hand out towards me.
“What?” I ask, hesitating.
“The best thing for sadness . . . is dancing.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No way.”
“Come on, Dancer, I swear it’ll make you smile. Don’t let all this ruin your night.”
“No thanks.” I laugh softly.
“Fine, I’ll bring out the big guns.”
He stands in front of me, and, I’m not even kidding, he begins wiggling his hips. He starts making sounds to match the intro of “Knee Deep.” He does a great version of an air guitar and then he slaps his thigh while spinning in circles.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“Knee deep in the water somewhere,” he sings, slapping his thighs. “Come on, Dancer!”
I shake my head, giggling uncontrollably.
He keeps singing the song at the top of his lungs, spinning around and waving his arms about like a lunatic. He reaches down, takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. He spins me around and I squeal. He jerks me back and we’re dancing wildly, his arms around me, our hands pointed out beside us. He struts us down the beach, and I throw my head back laughing, unable to stop the feeling of pure joy spreading through me.
He whistles the tune as he dips me backwards and pulls me back up. Another two twirls, some more strutting and a final bow later and we’re on the sand, laughing so hard our bellies hurt. “I. Haven’t. Laughed. So. Hard. In. Forever,” I gasp, rubbing my stomach to try and ease it. There’s some serious knotting up going on.
“I’m good for some things, it seems.” He laughs, lying back in the sand. I lay back beside him.
“I’m kind of glad we became friends,” he admits.
“I make a pretty good friend,” I add.
“When you’re not sulking.”
“Hey!”
He laughs.
“No shit, Dancer. I’m pretty glad I met you.”
~*~*~*~
NATE
“You’re late,” Lena says, flicking the television off as I walk in.
“It’s only just past midnight,” I say, dropping my keys and kicking my boots off.
“I wanted you home so we could spend some time together. Instead you sent me home with Macy and left me to sit here all night.”
I stare at her, annoyed. “Can I ever just come in to you acting normal? Macy was tired; you didn’t ask me to come with you. You told me you would take her home. If you wanted me to come with you, then all you had to do was ask. I’m not a god damned mind-reader.”
“I said be home by midnight.”
“He’s all I have, Nate. What else am I to do?”
“Live,” he offers. “Love.”
“And leave him to do what?”
“Figure it out on his own.”
I shake my head and look at my fingers. “She went missing when I was just thirteen years old,” I whisper.
“Your momma?”
“Yeah. She smiled at us as we walked out the door for the bus and we never saw her again. They searched; they investigated. All they ever found was her car on an old abandoned road. No clues. No blood. Nothing. She just vanished. That was ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry, Avery,” he says, softly. “I don’t know how that would feel.”
“People think it’s something that only happens in movies or in books. I mean, how can a person just go missing? There are so many theories. One is that she stopped to help someone—which is something my mother would do—and she was taken. The other is that she has taken her own life and they never found the body—maybe she jumped into a lake or the ocean. It’s unlikely; she was happy. The third is that she is alive somewhere, and not wanting to be found. That hurts more than all of them.”
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think something happened to her, I just don’t know what. She wouldn’t leave us. She was one of those mothers—the ones who live for their children.”
“Do they still look?”
I nod. “The investigation will always be open, I suppose. If they have leads, they investigate them. We’re kept in the loop as much as possible. The police have come to know our family very well.”
“I can imagine.”
We sit in silence for a long while.
“Liam is hurt,” I say. “So hurt. He hates my father—he thinks Dad favors me. It’s not like that. I try to stand by my father because I know how hurt he is. I don’t like it though, not one bit. He hardly speaks to me. There is no emotion left in him. I’m scared if I walk away and don’t do as he wants, that he’ll just break for a final time.”
“Now it makes sense,” he murmurs.
I turn to him, but he keeps speaking.
“You think if you don’t do what your father wants, you’re letting him down. You’re scared it’ll be the end of him, because he won’t be able to cope.”
I turn back and stare at the ocean.
“You can’t live like that, Avery. It’s not fair to you.”
“I’m fine with it, Nate. I care about Jacob.”
“Is that the truth?”
I turn to him. “Yes.”
It’s not.
He sighs and drops it. “All this sadness calls for only one thing.”
I look at him as he stands and stretches his hand out towards me.
“What?” I ask, hesitating.
“The best thing for sadness . . . is dancing.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No way.”
“Come on, Dancer, I swear it’ll make you smile. Don’t let all this ruin your night.”
“No thanks.” I laugh softly.
“Fine, I’ll bring out the big guns.”
He stands in front of me, and, I’m not even kidding, he begins wiggling his hips. He starts making sounds to match the intro of “Knee Deep.” He does a great version of an air guitar and then he slaps his thigh while spinning in circles.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“Knee deep in the water somewhere,” he sings, slapping his thighs. “Come on, Dancer!”
I shake my head, giggling uncontrollably.
He keeps singing the song at the top of his lungs, spinning around and waving his arms about like a lunatic. He reaches down, takes my arm and pulls me to my feet. He spins me around and I squeal. He jerks me back and we’re dancing wildly, his arms around me, our hands pointed out beside us. He struts us down the beach, and I throw my head back laughing, unable to stop the feeling of pure joy spreading through me.
He whistles the tune as he dips me backwards and pulls me back up. Another two twirls, some more strutting and a final bow later and we’re on the sand, laughing so hard our bellies hurt. “I. Haven’t. Laughed. So. Hard. In. Forever,” I gasp, rubbing my stomach to try and ease it. There’s some serious knotting up going on.
“I’m good for some things, it seems.” He laughs, lying back in the sand. I lay back beside him.
“I’m kind of glad we became friends,” he admits.
“I make a pretty good friend,” I add.
“When you’re not sulking.”
“Hey!”
He laughs.
“No shit, Dancer. I’m pretty glad I met you.”
~*~*~*~
NATE
“You’re late,” Lena says, flicking the television off as I walk in.
“It’s only just past midnight,” I say, dropping my keys and kicking my boots off.
“I wanted you home so we could spend some time together. Instead you sent me home with Macy and left me to sit here all night.”
I stare at her, annoyed. “Can I ever just come in to you acting normal? Macy was tired; you didn’t ask me to come with you. You told me you would take her home. If you wanted me to come with you, then all you had to do was ask. I’m not a god damned mind-reader.”
“I said be home by midnight.”
