Pushing the Limits

Joe came closer to the bed and propped an arm on the wooden beam. “What you did to help those children in your previous foster homes was honorable, and what’s happened to you is deplorable. Noah, my wife and I were wrong about you, but we weren’t sure how to stop what we started without hurting our chances of keeping the boys.”



My mind went blank. Joe and I had spent the past couple of years at each other’s throats and because of one chance meeting, he was waving the white flag? He scratched the back of his head, obviously feeling as unsure about this moment as I did.



Joe began again, “The way I see it, you’ve got three options. You can walk out of this house and continue to fight for your brothers and possibly win, yanking them away from their friends, their school, this house and us. You can fight and lose and only end up seeing your brothers on whatever visitation schedule the court allows, if any.



“Or you can withdraw your claim on the boys. Let us adopt them and raise them as we already see them, as our own. But with this option, you become a part of this family. You’ll have unlimited access to them. Phone calls, visitation, school plays, basketball games. Hell, come have dinner with us once a week.”



“Why?” I asked him.



He blinked, surprised by the question. “Why what?”



“Why are you offering the last option?” They’d gone this long hating me. Why be so generous now?



“Because they love you, Noah, and we love them. In ten years, I don’t want to explain to my sons that I let fear and pride keep them away from their only blood relative who cared about them.”



“I don’t trust you,” I said. Because adults lied.



Joe looked me straight in the eye. “I’ll have my lawyer put it in writing.”



I’d heard enough and I needed air. Joe had thrown out too much information, screwing with my brain. I pushed past him so I could find my brothers. Carrie lurked in the hallway, clutching a stuffed bear. For years I’d seen her as the hateful bitch who kept my brothers away from me. Thanks to Joe’s little speech I couldn’t see that anymore. Instead, I saw a broken woman who couldn’t complete her own dreams because of me.



Yeah, I knew all about scar tissue. Problem was, helping her was only going to increase mine.



Echo



I slammed the door to my car and ran up the dark driveway. Thank God, Isaiah was under the hood of Aires’ car.



“I am so sorry I’m late. I had this thing—” I met my mom, whom my dad would freak about if he found out I saw “—and it got screwed up—” she’d rather I spend years never sleeping again because she’s scared of what I’d think of her and then pointed out I’m a heartless, unforgiving bitch “—and I lost track of time.” I’d driven around trying to convince myself she was wrong.



Isaiah poked his head out from under the hood and gave me a crazy smile. “S’all good. Your dad told me I could go ahead and work on it.”



Okay. Sort of not my father’s style to let pierced, tattooed people hang out alone in our garage, but maybe he was too busy with Ashley to care. The door to the kitchen closed and Beth entered the garage with a can of Diet Coke. “All you’ve got is diet shit in your house. And fruit. Lots of fucking fruit. Don’t you have any frozen pizzas?”



“Ashley doesn’t like preservatives.” What was I doing? “Why were you in my house?” I glanced around and my heart dropped. “Where’s Noah?” My slow mind caught up with the fact that my father’s car was gone. “Where’s my father?”



Beth stared at me blankly, then snapped out of her trance. Lovely, she was high. “Oh, yeah, your stepmom went into labor and your dad said something about telling you.” She scrunched her eyes together. “Was there more to the message, Isaiah?”



He mumbled from under the hood, “Fuck, I don’t know. You were the one who was supposed to be listening.”



Beth giggled. “Right. I was.” Her giggling stopped. “Wow. When did it get to be night?”



My heart tripped in my chest. “Ashley’s in labor? She can’t be. She still has like …” I don’t know—something weeks left. Crap, how come I never paid attention? Dad had to be freaking out. “Lots of time left. The baby isn’t done yet.”



Beth tilted her head. “Do babies have timers?” Her smile grew. “If not, they should.”



Isaiah shut the hood with a feverish look in his eyes. “I need the keys.”



I experienced mind whiplash. Oh. My. God. He’d never asked for the keys before. I pointed crazily in the air toward the hook on the workbench, unable to do more than stutter, “There … there … they’re there.”



He grabbed the keys and hopped into the front seat of the car. I swore time moved in slow motion as he placed his foot on the gas pedal and inserted the key into the ignition.



In my mind, I saw Aires. His brown hair, long legs and ever-present smile. “It’s gonna run someday, Echo,” he once said. “Can’t you just hear the engine purring?”



Tears burned my eyes and I swallowed down the sob. Yes, Aires. It is going to run. I did this for you. How I wished he was here.



Isaiah turned the key and the sweetest rumbling sound filled the garage. He pressed his foot against the gas and hollered as the engine roared with life. “Oh, yeah, baby, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”



He stepped out of the car with his arms wide open. “I’m getting me something for this.”



And I happily complied. I jumped into those arms and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”



I let go of Isaiah, sat in the warm leather seat and clutched the vibrating steering wheel. Isaiah closed the door and I shifted the car into Reverse.



And then everything inside of me froze. I pressed down on the brake to stop. The hole in my heart that was supposed to be filled with this moving car … grew. “Isaiah, where’s Noah?”



NOAH



Carrie’s arms strangled my neck and, for a moment, I hoped she’d kill me. Death had to be better than this. I swallowed, but the heavy lump in my throat remained. Every muscle in my face pulled down and I sucked in air in an attempt to wash away the despair.



“I want to talk to Mrs. Collins first,” I choked out. “I haven’t completely made up my mind.” Goddammit. Why did everything have to hurt so bad? Every part of my body throbbed with pain to the point that I either had to die or explode.



“God bless you, Noah,” Carrie whispered in my ear.



I wanted a family. I wanted a fucking family and Jacob and Tyler already had one.



She sniffed as she released me, but her smile lit up the room like a thousand stars put together. “I know you’ll do the right thing by the boys. I know it.”



They had normal.



And I wasn’t it.



Carrie waited for a reply, but I couldn’t form a response to save my life. Joe placed a hand on my shoulder, saving me from speaking. “Mrs. Collins will be here soon.”



As if we were living out a bad sitcom, the doorbell chimed on cue and Carrie escorted Mrs. Collins into the kitchen. She wore paint-covered sweatpants and a Nirvana T-shirt. Joe mumbled something about giving us a few minutes.



The dishwasher beside me entered a rinse cycle. The rhythmic beating of the water against the dishes filled the room. Mrs. Collins tapped one finger against the black granite countertop. My gaze trailed to her face, expecting to see agitation for dragging her into this mess. Instead, the pain in her puppy dog eyes ripped open the dam of emotions I struggled to suppress.



Wetness invaded my eyes and I closed them, shaking my head repeatedly to stop any of it from falling. I did not want to hurt. I did not want to care, but dammit, this was killing me.



“Talk to me, Noah,” she said in the most serious tone I’d ever heard from her.



I glanced around the kitchen and back to her. “I can’t give them this.”



“No,” she replied softly. “You can’t.”



“And I can’t afford basketball camps and the private school they love so much and the gifts for all the birthday parties they’re invited to.” My throat became thick.



“No,” she repeated.



“And they have grandparents.” I didn’t recognize the hoarse sound of my voice. “Jacob couldn’t stop talking about Joe’s parents and Tyler goes fishing with Carrie’s dad every Wednesday as long as it’s above freezing. I can’t offer them that.”



“You’re right.”



“I love them,” I said with determination.



“I know you do.” And her voice quavered. “I have never doubted that.”



“I love Echo, too.” I stared straight into Mrs. Collins’s eyes. “I miss her.”



She shrugged and gave me a sad smile. “It’s okay to love someone besides your brothers, Noah. You aren’t betraying them or your parents because you’re living your life.”



And it happened. After years of holding it in, the grief within me snapped. All of the anger and sadness and hurt I’d stored away in my quest to never feel those emotions burst through to the surface. “I want my mom and dad.” I couldn’t suck in air. “I just want my family back.”



Mrs. Collins wiped her eyes and crossed the room to me. “I know,” she said again and pulled me into a hug.



“THANKS AGAIN, NOAH.” JOE SHOOK my hand for possibly the fiftieth time since I told him and Carrie I was no longer pursuing custody after I graduated. “I promise you’ll see them whenever you want.”



I nodded and glanced over my shoulder. Mrs. Collins and Carrie stood near the stairs at the end of the second-floor hallway. Mrs. Collins sent me an encouraging smile and I took a deep breath.



Joe opened the door to Jacob’s room and the two of us entered. “Boys, Noah would like to talk to you.”



“Noah!” In Batman pajamas, Jacob raced across the room and rammed into me. “You’re still here!”



“Yes,” said Joe. “And he’ll be here a lot more.” With eager eyes, Jacob marveled at Joe. “You mean it?”



“I swear to it.” Joe patted my shoulder. “I’ll give you guys some time to talk.”



And just like that he walked away, closing the door behind him. I hadn’t been alone with my brothers in over two years. With my hand on Jacob, I stared at the picture of my parents. They weren’t coming back and I could never re-create what we had, but I could move forward.



I sat on the floor and my heart floated when Tyler, in footed pajamas, inched closer to me and placed his small hand in mine. His thumb in his mouth. A blanket in his fist.



Jacob superglued himself to my side. “Dad never swears unless he means it, Noah. He says it’s a sin to lie.”



I nodded. “It is. Our mom used to say that, too.” I cleared my throat and began the hardest conversation of my life. “A couple of years ago, I made a promise to you. At the time I meant it, but now I don’t think it’s the best thing for any of us.”