Chapter Nineteen
Gray
The shadows danced on the walls later that day, the images produced earlier in the day unable to dissipate behind the lids of my eyes. They intermixed with the twigs and brush that blew outside, the heavy storm as if reflecting my headspace.
As if reflecting the heaviness of my heart.
I cradled my head in the living room of my trailer, our life piled around me in the form of a few bags. We could fit our entire lives in merely five and only one to two if the urgency was dire.
What am I doing?
Squeezing my eyes, I attempted to come to terms with what I was about to do again.
I was going to run. I was going to go when things got tough and things became tense. Upon coming home, I believed I did need to leave, a clear danger in staying but as it turned out the danger may have been less for the well-being of my family and more of something else.
She had my heart.
The images of deep-brown eyes and warm skin the tone of honey and amber killed my insides. Especially as I watched her go away. I pushed her away, blamed her and now I was putting myself in a position to never see her again.
And all because I was scared.
I was terrified of Alicia. I feared what she could do, her potential to open me up and expose me in ways I didn’t want to be exposed. I had already told her so much, too much.
What if she finds out the truth?
I’d have to lie to her every day. Every day would be a continued lie between us. She wouldn’t accept the whole truth behind us coming here to Mayfield and her judgment, the potential lack of her love…
I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t strong enough to see myself changing in her eyes so Laura and I had to go.
So why was I still sitting on the couch?
I sat for what felt like a short millennia and, eventually, I wasn’t alone anymore. Perhaps, my daughter knew I needed her just like she needed me earlier that day, my little girl so brave.
She came into the room in her shorts-coveralls, the way she’d been since we had arrived home today. Going right into her room to take a nap, calm down, I sat with her until she closed her eyes, rubbing her back and telling her everything was going to be okay. I wanted her to get one good sleep in, one more before I made sure our lives changed again.
Her arrival in the living room put me off at first as I’d just laid her down what felt like not too terribly long ago and I confirmed that when I looked at my cellphone. Even still I welcomed her, smiling at her. Like I said, I needed her.
“Hey, kiddo,” I said guiding her to me. She leaned against my knee, a red to her eyes that let me know she’d been crying again. She didn’t cry a lot but when she did it destroyed me in the worst way.
I should have listened to my instinct. She wasn’t ready.
My kid was so brave but it was all too much too soon. I should have known that. I should have trusted myself.
You trusted her.
And I still did despite myself. I couldn’t help trusting Alicia. I couldn’t help loving her even more.
The ache in my chest suffocated like a cellophane bag over my head. Even small breaths weren’t easily managed. I asked Laura if she wanted some peanut brittle as when she did have these rare times of unease she enjoyed sharing a box with me. It was one of my favorite things to eat and our shared love of the snack let me know we did share DNA. She was mine, a product of me and who I was.
After cupping her face, I got up, heading over into the kitchen. The food was all still in there because in my panic I felt it best to just rush out and start from scratch after Laura woke up. I didn’t want any more baggage than needed I supposed.
I heard steps behind me when I reached up and grabbed the brittle, but I dropped the box to the floor as I heard a sound.
A voice.
“Daddy…?”
The word repeated, the word that didn’t exist and I turned around, the only one in the room my kid.
And the tears had returned to her eyes.
“Dad?”
The word I actually saw form from her lips this time, a light sound and rasped like it was new, newborn, new… everything.
I crossed the room to my daughter, on my knees as the afternoon storm crashed and descended on our small trailer like we truly were in that fairy tale, Dorothy in Kansas.
The shake hit my hand like a tremor, my reach to Laura unstable.
“Laura?”
Her tears moved down my fingers, her face cringing as if she was in pain, but she’d said my name. I heard her.
She broke down.
“Daddy, please don’t be mad,” she retched, the words straining from her lips. “Please, Alicia did nothing wrong.”
The words shocked me as much as their existence, but so happy…
My other hand came to her face, looking in awe at my daughter, my kid.
Her voice…
It took me so long to realize this was happening, maybe too long to establish this wasn’t a dream or some cruel trick someone was trying to play on me. It took me a moment to realize this was real but once I had I couldn’t let go.
“Alicia, honey?” I questioned, my heart, my soul so damn happy. I wanted to wipe my eyes, hard to see clearly all of a sudden, but like I said, I couldn’t let go, only getting closer.
Laura shook her head in my hands, her tears dripping down to the kitchen titles.
Her face scrunched up.
“Alicia… You’re mad at her. Please, don’t be mad at her. It isn’t her fault. I wanted to go to school.”
She was… defending Alicia. My little girl, my child who hadn’t spoke in so long opened up her mouth, her voice to go out to someone else. Alicia had brought this out of her.
Alicia had brought her back to life.
Dampening my lips, I swallowed down hard.
“You weren’t ready, Laura,” I said, this moment so surreal. “She overstepped and had Dad not listened to her—”
Laura’s head shook with vigor, her eyes red and nose puffy.
“But I was,” she challenged and so, so adamant. She was so brave and stronger than I ever knew. Her arms came around me and like earlier I’d been surprised. She’d never been one to hug. She’d never been one to do anything.
How much had changed.
I held her, closing my eyes as she continued to plead, plead she was ready, plead this wasn’t Alicia’s fault, and plead I shouldn’t be mad. She pleaded I should forgive. She pleaded I should be as brave as she was.
“I want to go back, Dad,” she said to me, the determination her voice teaching me something. She wanted me to take her back to the school and finish the day. She wanted to face her fears and maybe if she could?
I could face mine.