Light in the Shadows
Page 75
But that wasn’t our lot and I was learning to accept it. Life with Clayton Reed would never be sunshine and roses. It would be lots of shadows with intermittent light. And I was beginning to figure out ways to appreciate the light when I saw it. Because that darkness was still there. It most likely would always be there.
We were working on it though, together. And that was saying something.
So we slipped into a much better place than we had ever been before. Everyone could see the change in not only Clay but in me as well. Rachel commented on it after school one day.
“You seem happy, Mags. So does Clay. It makes me feel good to know you’re feeling good.” Rachel was simplistic like that. I had given her a hug, which again was totally unlike me. But she had taken it in stride.
Daniel was less convinced but for the time being he kept his mouth shut about it. If I was okay, then he was okay, and that’s what I loved about him.
My parents were barely concealing their very serious anxiety about the situation. They didn’t interrogate me, which I appreciated. Bu they had become sneakier in getting information. Clay had been insistent in coming to see them. I knew that he felt he needed to make the effort with them. So I had facilitated their reintroduction.
Clay brought me home after a shift at Java Madness. I knew both of my parents were home, so I impulsively asked Clay to come inside. It was probably best not to prepare him for the sit down with my parents. I knew he would have only worked himself up unnecessarily. Mom and Dad would either accept him or not. Either way this was Clay’s chance to prove that he wanted to make amends and that he was trying to change.
“You ready for this?” I asked him, noticing he had gone a little pale. Clay didn’t say anything, only nodded his head. Going inside I found my dad reading the newspaper and my mom working on her laptop in the living room.
They both looked up as we came into the room. They weren’t surprised to see Clay; I had warned them I’d be bringing him by. While I didn’t want to put undue pressure on Clay by preparing him for the visit, my parents needed to be warned ahead of time. It gave them time to sort out how they would respond to seeing the boy who they blamed for their daughter’s epic freak out months before.
Clay had dropped my hand and stuffed his into his jeans, a sure sign of his discomfort. “Hello Mr. Young. Mrs. Young.” He had tentatively walked farther into the room as though he were approaching the firing squad.
My dad had looked at him over the top of his glasses and put the paper on the couch beside him before getting to his feet. My mother’s smile, while a little forced, was at least firmly in place as she met Clay half way to greet him.
“Hello, Clay.” My dad shook his hand and I was relieved at the lack of posturing on his end. Mom shook his hand as well and I was pleased at how civil they were being. Score one for the parental units.
“How’s Ruby?” my mother asked, squeezing Clay’s forearm in sympathy. Clay rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to me as though reaffirming that I hadn’t left him to face my parents alone.
“She has her good and bad days. Well actually, her bad days and not so bad days. It’s been tough,” Clay answered truthfully. My dad’s face softened a bit and I knew that Clay’s honesty had gotten to him. My mom made a clucking noise in the back of her throat.
“If there’s anything either of you need, please don’t hesitate to ask,” my mom told him and I could see that Clay was blown away by her offer.
“Thank you, Mrs. Young. Ruby and I appreciate all of the food you’ve given us. It’s been nice to eat something that didn’t come out of box from the freezer.” Clay’s mouth quirked up in a painful smile. It was the smile of someone who didn’t know whether they were about to be eaten alive or not.
“You are very welcome,” Mom said and waved him toward the couch. “Have a seat. I was just getting ready to make some tea. Can I get you anything?” she asked both of us. Clay shook his head.
“No, thank you,” he responded in such forced politeness that I wished I could tell him to relax. But my dad had already honed in. He had sat down across from Clay, his arms crossed over his chest. My dad had always been the harder sell. Particularly where Clayton Reed was concerned.
When my mother asked me to help her in the kitchen I had declined initially. I was more than a little worried about leaving Clay alone with my dad for any amount of time. But my mom had insisted and I could tell by the look she was throwing my way that I needed to make myself scarce.
Clay’s expression had been bordering on panic and I could only grimace in return as I followed my mom into the kitchen. “Do you think it’s smart leaving those two alone?” I had asked my mom, casting nervous looks down the hallway toward the living room. I could hear the nondescript murmur of their voices but nothing else.
My mom had gone about getting things together for tea. She pulled out a box of peanut butter cookies and put them on a plate. “Your dad needs to talk to Clay, Maggie. I think it’s best to let them speak privately for a moment.” That had made my stomach flutter nervously.
My mom had given me a reassuring hug. “He’s not going to threaten him with a shot gun. But there are things he needs to say. Things Clay needs to hear. If you plan on having a relationship with him, then your father and I are going to make certain things very clear.” I had felt the overwhelming urge to throw up and then run into the living room and whisk Clay out of the house. What the hell had I been thinking in bringing him here? I wasn’t so sure Clay was emotionally ready to deal with whatever my dad decided to dish out.
We were working on it though, together. And that was saying something.
So we slipped into a much better place than we had ever been before. Everyone could see the change in not only Clay but in me as well. Rachel commented on it after school one day.
“You seem happy, Mags. So does Clay. It makes me feel good to know you’re feeling good.” Rachel was simplistic like that. I had given her a hug, which again was totally unlike me. But she had taken it in stride.
Daniel was less convinced but for the time being he kept his mouth shut about it. If I was okay, then he was okay, and that’s what I loved about him.
My parents were barely concealing their very serious anxiety about the situation. They didn’t interrogate me, which I appreciated. Bu they had become sneakier in getting information. Clay had been insistent in coming to see them. I knew that he felt he needed to make the effort with them. So I had facilitated their reintroduction.
Clay brought me home after a shift at Java Madness. I knew both of my parents were home, so I impulsively asked Clay to come inside. It was probably best not to prepare him for the sit down with my parents. I knew he would have only worked himself up unnecessarily. Mom and Dad would either accept him or not. Either way this was Clay’s chance to prove that he wanted to make amends and that he was trying to change.
“You ready for this?” I asked him, noticing he had gone a little pale. Clay didn’t say anything, only nodded his head. Going inside I found my dad reading the newspaper and my mom working on her laptop in the living room.
They both looked up as we came into the room. They weren’t surprised to see Clay; I had warned them I’d be bringing him by. While I didn’t want to put undue pressure on Clay by preparing him for the visit, my parents needed to be warned ahead of time. It gave them time to sort out how they would respond to seeing the boy who they blamed for their daughter’s epic freak out months before.
Clay had dropped my hand and stuffed his into his jeans, a sure sign of his discomfort. “Hello Mr. Young. Mrs. Young.” He had tentatively walked farther into the room as though he were approaching the firing squad.
My dad had looked at him over the top of his glasses and put the paper on the couch beside him before getting to his feet. My mother’s smile, while a little forced, was at least firmly in place as she met Clay half way to greet him.
“Hello, Clay.” My dad shook his hand and I was relieved at the lack of posturing on his end. Mom shook his hand as well and I was pleased at how civil they were being. Score one for the parental units.
“How’s Ruby?” my mother asked, squeezing Clay’s forearm in sympathy. Clay rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to me as though reaffirming that I hadn’t left him to face my parents alone.
“She has her good and bad days. Well actually, her bad days and not so bad days. It’s been tough,” Clay answered truthfully. My dad’s face softened a bit and I knew that Clay’s honesty had gotten to him. My mom made a clucking noise in the back of her throat.
“If there’s anything either of you need, please don’t hesitate to ask,” my mom told him and I could see that Clay was blown away by her offer.
“Thank you, Mrs. Young. Ruby and I appreciate all of the food you’ve given us. It’s been nice to eat something that didn’t come out of box from the freezer.” Clay’s mouth quirked up in a painful smile. It was the smile of someone who didn’t know whether they were about to be eaten alive or not.
“You are very welcome,” Mom said and waved him toward the couch. “Have a seat. I was just getting ready to make some tea. Can I get you anything?” she asked both of us. Clay shook his head.
“No, thank you,” he responded in such forced politeness that I wished I could tell him to relax. But my dad had already honed in. He had sat down across from Clay, his arms crossed over his chest. My dad had always been the harder sell. Particularly where Clayton Reed was concerned.
When my mother asked me to help her in the kitchen I had declined initially. I was more than a little worried about leaving Clay alone with my dad for any amount of time. But my mom had insisted and I could tell by the look she was throwing my way that I needed to make myself scarce.
Clay’s expression had been bordering on panic and I could only grimace in return as I followed my mom into the kitchen. “Do you think it’s smart leaving those two alone?” I had asked my mom, casting nervous looks down the hallway toward the living room. I could hear the nondescript murmur of their voices but nothing else.
My mom had gone about getting things together for tea. She pulled out a box of peanut butter cookies and put them on a plate. “Your dad needs to talk to Clay, Maggie. I think it’s best to let them speak privately for a moment.” That had made my stomach flutter nervously.
My mom had given me a reassuring hug. “He’s not going to threaten him with a shot gun. But there are things he needs to say. Things Clay needs to hear. If you plan on having a relationship with him, then your father and I are going to make certain things very clear.” I had felt the overwhelming urge to throw up and then run into the living room and whisk Clay out of the house. What the hell had I been thinking in bringing him here? I wasn’t so sure Clay was emotionally ready to deal with whatever my dad decided to dish out.
