Chapter Twelve
Avery
“I’m the one in the hospital, but you’re the one who looks like shit,” Dad said as I walked into his room.
“Get off her case, Jim,” Aunt Dawn said from the chair next to his bed. “Honey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, giving the same answer I had for the last three days since I’d left River.
I said it to everyone at work when they asked about how red my eyes were. I said it to Addy when she caught me staring off into space, thinking about him. I said it to myself every time I felt my walls crumble and the not-fine emotions surface.
“Fine or not, you look like crap,” Dad repeated, sitting up in bed with a wince. “I wish they hadn’t lowered my meds.”
“You have to be able to function,” I said. “Besides, with the new physical therapy, maybe we can wean you off them.”
“I’m not seeing a physical therapist,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, why bother with something that might help you?” I snapped. “Why not just up the pain meds until we’re here again?”
“Watch your tone!” He seethed. “Your mother would be ashamed!”
My mouth snapped shut, heat flushing my face. She had handled him with more grace than I ever would manage…and she had died for it.
“Jim,” Aunt Dawn warned. “Avery didn’t put you in this hospital. You did that yourself.”
Before he could snap back at her, the doctor came in to discharge Dad. I stared out the window in the direction of River’s house, wondering what he was doing, how mad at me he still was.
Did I make a mistake? I shut that line of thinking down before it could destroy me. There hadn’t been a choice to make. I had to set him free before we destroyed each other.
Too late.
I listened as the doctor gave the discharge instructions to my aunt. The pain meds he was allowed, the therapist he needed to see. It should have been me the doctor gave the instructions to. After all, I was the one who was responsible for Dad. But this doc wouldn’t know that. In appearances, it made sense that the fifty-ish woman was caring for the fifty-ish man.
Not the twenty-five year old.
A little over an hour later, we had Dad settled back on the living room couch. “Give me the remote,” he demanded when Aunt Dawn went to grab his bag from the car.
I handed it over without a word, too tired to fight with him over manners.
“Give me one of those white pills.”
“No, it’s not time yet,” I told him, removing the medication.
“You’re not the adult here!” he screamed.
“Of course I am!” I fired back. “That’s what you made me! You want to be the grown-up then you have to act like it.”
I put the meds in the small breadbox on top of the refrigerator, gripped the counter, and leaned over, trying to get a breath. Everything suddenly felt stifling, as if the walls of my life were suddenly moving closer—like I was stuck in that trash compactor on Star Wars.
But I’d let my Han Solo walk away.
Gasping for air, I stumbled to the front door, grabbing my car keys on the way out. I needed to see him. Even if it was only for a second. Even if he told me to go the hell away, I needed him.
“Avery?” Aunt Dawn bumped into me on the bottom steps. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I replied automatically, sucking in the clean, sweet air. “I just need to run an errand. Do you think you could stay with him?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” I said, nearly running to my car.
“Honey,” she called out. “You don’t have to do this—take care of him on your own. I didn’t know how bad it was, you were that good at caring for him. But I’m here now. I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, do you understand?”
“He’s my father,” I said with a shrug.
“He’s my little brother. He was my responsibility long before he was yours. Don’t you let your father’s actions stop you from living your life. Do you understand me? I won’t stand for it, and neither would your mother.”
I nodded, unable to think of anything to say, then slid behind the wheel. She waved before disappearing into the house, and I backed out of our driveway, more than desperate to get to River.
Maybe River was right. Maybe if I had Aunt Dawn to push Dad, he’d get better—at least well enough to move to Colorado. Maybe all he needed was the winter.
Maybe there was something at the cliff’s edge.
I sped across the back roads toward River’s house. I’d never gone this long without talking to him unless he was on a fire, and we’d never been in a fight this severe, but I knew it could be fixed.
He was River. I was Avery. It was as simple as that.
I pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition, running for the house before I heard the car door fully shut behind me. Zeus wasn’t barking, so maybe they were out for a run.
I fumbled with my keys, pulling out the small bronze one he’d given me years ago, and opened the door.
“River? I used my—” The air rushed from my lungs as I looked into his perfectly clean, perfectly empty house. “Key.”
Everything was gone. The furniture. The dishes. Zeus’s bowls. The house I loved had been transformed into an empty shell. Somehow I got my feet to move, to carry me to the kitchen counter where there was a stack of papers. There was a listing agreement and a note to Mindy Ruiz, a local realtor.
Hey, Mindy,
Here’s the listing agreement. Sorry I had to leave so fast. It just made sense to send all my stuff with Bishop’s. You’ll find his listing agreement under mine. If you need anything else, I’ll forward my new number from Colorado. All the keys are here except one. Avery Claire has it. Let her keep it. I’ll pay to have the locks redone when you find new buyers.
Thanks,
River Maldonado
He was gone. Really and truly gone. Because I told him to go.
My back hit the cabinet and I fell to the ground. Hugging my knees to my chest, I finally succumbed to my emotions, letting them out of the cage I’d locked them in.
I loved him. I’d always thought if I didn’t acknowledge that fact, it wouldn’t have the power to hurt me, but I was pulverized all the same. Whether or not I’d told him, or even myself, didn’t matter. The love was still there, and the ache was pure agony.
I’d had him. Touched him. Loved him. I’d held his heart in my hands and then thrown it back at him.
My sobs echoed through the empty house until my body ran out of tears. By the time I left, it was dark—and I was broken.
* * * *
“I want to move to Colorado,” Adeline said as she helped me load the dishwasher.
“They have some really great colleges there. Why don’t we do some research? It’s only five years away.” I slipped another glass into the top rack.
“Because I want to go now.”
My stomach tightened. “Yeah, well, we can’t. Look what happened when I left last time.” It had been three weeks since he’d overdosed. Two since River moved to Colorado.
One since he posted a photo of his new house on Instagram with the caption that he was home in Legacy for good.
“Where’s that beer?” Dad called out from the living room.
“That was his choice,” Addy whispered.
I grabbed a clean glass from the cabinet, filled it with ice and water, and walked out of the kitchen without replying. How could she understand? She was only thirteen. I’d been two years older when Mom died, and even then I hadn’t fully understood.
“Here we go,” I said to Dad as I put the glass within his reach on the coffee table.
“What is that bullshit?” he spat.
“That is water. Doc said no booze, remember?” I counted to ten in my head, reminding myself that he was an addict.
“I don’t give a fuck what that doctor said. Get me a beer before your aunt Dawn gets back from the store.”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Girl!” he yelled, and I heard Adeline go silent in the kitchen. The water was running, but no dishes clanked.
“I didn’t give up everything good in my life just so you could sit there and drink yourself to death,” I said calmly.
“Get me the goddamned beer! Gave up everything good? What would you know? Because you broke up with a boy who you dated for all of five seconds? I lost your mother!”
“I did, too!” I yelled. “You aren’t the only one who lost her!”
Something went sailing past my head and smashed against the wall. I spun to see water running down the wall into a puddle of ice and smashed glass.
“Clean that up!” he yelled.
“Clean it up yourself,” I snapped and walked away.
My chest heaved as I ran outside, gasping for the clean air as I sat on the front steps, my head in my hands. He’d fucking thrown a glass at me. What was next? Would he hit me? Would he hit Addy?
The doc had warned us that he would get worse before he got better. That weaning him down from the pain meds wasn’t going to be pleasant, but this was horrid. Maybe I needed to send Addy to a friend’s house for the next month or so.
The door opened and shut behind me and Adeline joined me on the step. “I want to move now.”
“I know,” I said, putting my arm around her. “But we can’t just leave him.”
“We wouldn’t be. Aunt Dawn is here. She’s already offered to take care of him, and let’s face it—she’s the only one he’s remotely scared of.”
“That’s true, but he’s our dad.”
“He’s never going to forgive us for Mom dying,” she whispered.
I wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, but I’d made a promise to never lie to her, so I stayed silent.
“Avery?”
“Yeah?”
“I did something.”
My stomach clenched. “Okay. What did you do?”
“You know my savings?”
“I do.” She hated that I made her save half of every birthday gift from our extended family.
“I spent it yesterday.”
Before I could flip out on her that she’d need that when she went to college, she unfolded a paper from her back pocket and handed it to me.
Doing my best to keep my hands from trembling, I opened it up. Then my jaw dropped. “You want me to be your legal guardian?”
She nodded. “There’s nothing left for us here, Avery. You’re already more of a parent than he is. This would just make it possible…”
“For us to move to Colorado without him,” I whispered.
“For us to be free.”
I hugged her to me, and for the first time in my life, I considered leaving him behind.
* * * *
“You’re sure you’re okay to get him to his appointment?” I asked Aunt Dawn.
“Yes, Avery. You go to work. Maybe stay out late? Go see a movie?”
It had been a month since River left, and I still hadn’t ventured out for more than work, groceries, or getting Adeline to school. Just like River’s house had become nothing more than a shell when he left, I was hollowing out on the inside without him.
I stalked his Instagram like a mad woman, savoring the pictures he took of Legacy, of the views from his run, or the deck. Where he told me that he loved me.
As much as those pictures hurt, it was nothing compared to the pain that ripped me in two when his house here sold.
As I reached for a pre-work snack, I saw a pamphlet on the counter. “LaVerna Lodge. What’s this?”
“That’s an extended rehab center,” Aunt Dawn said slowly. “I wanted to talk to you about it later. He’s not getting any better with how we’re doing things, and I thought maybe he needed a little more structure. A firmer hand.”
He hadn’t had another violent outburst, but he hadn’t cleaned up the glass he’d broken, either. He’d been careful with his words, especially when Aunt Dawn was around. Maybe Addy was right and I wasn’t what he needed to get healthy. “You think this is what he needs?”
She covered my hand with hers. “I do. I have the money, you don’t have to worry about that. But I think you both need to go. Him to the recovery center and you to that man you love so desperately.”
A lump formed in my throat. “That ship sailed.”
“Chase it down,” she said softly. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Let your dad get healthy. Right now he doesn’t deserve you, and there comes a point where you need to recognize that he’s not your responsibility, no matter how much you claim otherwise.”
Never tell, Avery. You can never tell. Mom’s words came back to me as I glanced at the pamphlet. “He’ll never agree. His addiction…it was something he would never let on in the public.”
“Now that, my dear, is a ship that’s sailed. The ambulance and hospital stay outed him pretty damn loudly. I honestly don’t know why you didn’t come to me earlier.”
“I…he…” I stuttered. “I did it for Mom, because I was scared that if I left, or I brought attention to it, the system would take Addy. She was so little, and I was still in high school.”
“You’re not anymore. You’d be more than fit as a guardian…if you wanted to be. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, and if you want to go, I can take care of Adeline. Either way, we really need to get him into treatment.”
I nodded. She was right about everything. The same fear that had me covering his ass all these years didn’t come into play anymore. “Maybe I can talk to him about it.” A quick glance at my phone told me I had thirty minutes before I needed to leave. “Let me get dressed for work, first.”
Ten minutes later, I walked toward the living room but paused just outside the door when I heard Aunt Dawn talking with Adeline, and I shamelessly eavesdropped.
“They have a great pre-law program, and the campus is gorgeous,” Addy said.
“I’m sure it is, baby. I’m so proud of you for thinking ahead. Have you looked anywhere local?” Aunt Dawn asked.
Dad struggled to sit up, and Aunt Dawn helped him, propping a pillow behind his back.
Addy licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting toward Dad before answering. “Not really. I think I belong there. Colorado just kind of calls to me.”
I smiled at the wistfulness in her voice, the way her world seemed so open, everything possible. She had the determination to do it, too. Once Adeline put her mind to something, it was pretty much a done deal.
“What about Avery?” Dad asked, turning his eyes soft in a way I had only seen when he wanted something.
Chills raced down my spine.
“What about her?” Adeline asked carefully. “She loves Colorado.”
“She does, but she won’t leave here. This is her home—your home, too, but I understand you wanting to stretch your wings. Our little town isn’t for everyone, is it?”
“No,” she said quietly, looking at her hands.
“I guess…” He shook his head, and I leaned closer.
“What?” she asked in a small voice.
“I just guess I never saw you as being the kind of girl who would abandon her family.”
Oh, hell no.
“Oh, that’s not what she’d be doing—” Aunt Dawn argued, but the damage was done.
Addy’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I’d never thought of it that way.”
“I bet Avery has,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I don’t know how she’d get by without you.”
Every time he’d used those exact words on me flooded my head, the memories bringing with them the kind of cold rage I hadn’t felt since the night Mom died.
It wasn’t about family for him. If it was, he’d be content that I was here to take care of him and he would have eventually let Adeline go. No, it was about control.
And I was taking it back.
I walked to the hall table and calmly took out Adeline’s folded paper, then grabbed a pen and went back to the living room, Aunt Dawn following me with her head tilted.
“Avery?”
I ignored her and made a beeline straight for my father. “Addy, move,” I instructed her.
She jumped, moving out of the way. I didn’t look at her, instead I focused completely on the man who’d blamed me for his misery since I was fifteen.
“Sign it,” I said, handing him the paper and pen.
“What?” he scoffed, opening the paper. “Like hell am I signing this.”
“You’ll sign it,” I told him. “I’m taking Adeline to Colorado. She’s going to have a life. She’s going to finish out a real childhood and then be whatever the hell she wants when she grows up. She’s not staying here under your thumb so you can guilt her into spending her life in this house. I refuse. Sign the goddamned paper.”
“Have you lost your mind, girl?” he spat at me. “She’s my child. You want to leave? Go. No one’s stopping you. Good riddance. But she stays.” He pointed the pen at Adeline.
I sat in the chair, leaning close to him so only he could hear me. “You sign that paper, or I will tell her why our mother is really dead.” He tensed. “You were high while you were driving. You see, you can play off your addiction as the result of that crash and get all the sympathy, but I’m old enough to remember. We were at Grandma’s because Mom needed to dry you out before your work buddies realized what you’d become. I know because I wasn’t a kid when it happened, Dad. I heard her on the phone. I knew what drug paraphernalia looked like.”
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered, his eyes wide with panic.
“I would. For Adeline, I would. You can blame us for being born all you want, but you were an addict way before that accident. And I know that the only reason you weren’t put in jail was because you were on the force and your buddy figured losing Mom would change you. He didn’t want to take you away from us.”
“Avery…”
“I hated you, but I was also so grateful just to have you alive.”
“Please don’t…”
“But I don’t feel that way anymore. I have no problem writing a huge article about it for the paper. Sure, maybe no one will believe me, but chances are they all will—including Adeline. Sign the paper, Dad. Free her. Get healthy. Then come find us, and we’ll see if we can ever repair what you’ve systematically destroyed. Until then… Sign. The. Fucking. Paper.”
A simple movement of his wrist, and Adeline was free.
And so was I.