Don't Let Go

Why did I? I listened to my breath going in and out. “I don’t know,” I said. “I told myself I was protecting her, but that wasn’t it. I think it was just more of my mother’s voice saying to keep it all quiet.” I looked him in the eye. “I have no good answer for that.”

 

“Understandable, too,” he said, pausing. “Can I be honest with you?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Seth averted his gaze, studying his hands. “She’s a rebel. She’s testing boundaries.” He met my eyes. “Shon was like that, too. Me—I was probably an easy kid, but Shon was hard to follow sometimes. He was always bucking the rules.”

 

“That’s Becca,” I said.

 

“My parents were kind of sticklers about rules, too,” he said, blinking his gaze down. “And being the one usually watching the showdowns, I always wanted to ask them to back off a little.”

 

“I thought you said everything was good,” I said, feeling a frown dip my eyebrows.

 

“No, no, it was,” he said. “Our house was normal—but normal has chaos, too.”

 

“True.”

 

“And it seemed like the more my parents cracked down, the more Shon fought back.”

 

Our eyes met for a long moment. “What happened to him?” I asked.

 

“He got in some trouble,” Seth said, looking into his glass as though the story was in there. “I tried to help him, but he needed a different kind of help.”

 

“What kind?”

 

“Money to pay off debt—at nineteen years old,” Seth added, bitterness entering his voice. “He got mixed up with bad people, and then thought drowning his problems in a bottle would stop it.” He looked at me. “It did.”

 

“Oh, God,” I whispered.

 

“So he got behind the wheel after partying one night, and ended up dead,” Seth said, upending his glass and draining the tea.

 

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

 

“I was twenty-one,” he said. “Just finishing up college. It’s part of what pushed me to join the police academy.”

 

“How did your parents handle it?” I asked, unable to imagine losing a child that way.

 

I’d lost one, too. But I knew he was still breathing. And then the most awful realization hit me. I hadn’t known, not really. I guess my mother did, but I didn’t. Shon’s birth mother—she probably had no idea.

 

“Like you’d expect,” he said. “It was hard to leave them after that, but they wanted me to go after what I wanted, so I did.”

 

“Do they—” I stopped and took a sip of my untouched tea, then got up to refill his glass. “Do they know you came to find us?”

 

“My dad does,” he said. “My mom—she’d probably be okay with it, but I just didn’t want to put that on her yet. At least not till I had something to tell. After Lisa bailed on the wedding and all—she would have just worried.”

 

I smiled. “She sounds like we’d have a lot in common.”

 

“You’re very similar, actually,” he said on a chuckle. “Eerily so.”

 

Becca came into the room, looking somber and clean-faced. “I need a note to get back in school.”

 

“What was your plan?” I asked.

 

“Hadn’t thought that far,” she said, nothing in her eyes. Nothing in her expression. She handed me a pen and piece of notebook paper. “Just—please write whatever you’re gonna write.”

 

She knew me. She knew I’d write something like, Please let Becca White back in school today, she was stupid and skipped class without my knowledge.

 

She knew that because it’s exactly what I would have done. As I looked at the trouble in her face and heard Seth’s words, however, I paused.

 

I looked at the blank page with its rumpled edges, pulled from some dark cave of her backpack, and started writing. When I handed it to her, she snatched it and walked off, but stopped at the doorway as she started reading. She turned back around with a question in her eyes.

 

“Really?”

 

“Consider it your freebie,” I said. “With the school, not with me.”

 

It would be a little while before we were good again. Her gaze darted to Seth and then to the floor, and she nodded and walked away.

 

“What did you write?” he asked.

 

“To excuse her for a family emergency and that she’d be back the next day,” I said, wishing I could put my head in my glass. My face felt on fire.

 

Seth’s eyes widened. “Wow.”

 

“Yeah, caving’s not really my thing,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “And I’m not sure how smart it was. Especially after her mouth overloaded her brain like that.”

 

“Did it hurt?”

 

“Massively.”

 

He laughed. “Why’d you do it?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe your story about your brother. Maybe some things I’ve been thinking about my own mother.” I looked at the empty doorway where she’d just exited. “I just know something has to change.”

 

 

 

• • •

 

 

 

We spent the next few hours catching up on twenty-six years. I told him his birth story—the one Becca described with such flare. I told him about Noah and me, and my parents, and Noah’s dad. About the animosity and the drama. Spent some detail on my mother—as fun as that was—and I showed him the pictures I’d found after Noah returned to town. We made plans with Nana Mae to maybe hook up the next morning, at which point I hoped he’d get a different perspective on my mom. I just couldn’t go there, yet.

 

“Wow,” he said, flipping over a particularly good depiction in the pile of a squirrel stuck in a tree. “I never knew about any deal for a trust fund,” he said. “My mom showed it to me when I turned twenty-one, said that my biological family had set it up. Honestly, I didn’t give it a lot of thought. I just left it there.”

 

“Well, it’s not going anywhere.”

 

He looked down at what was essentially his life in pictures. “I guess my mom had secrets, too,” he said. “Maybe all parents do. Do you?” he added.

 

I smiled sadly. “Not anymore.”

 

“What does Becca like to do?” he said, the turn of subject taking me off guard.

 

“Um—she writes,” I said. “Carries a notebook with her everywhere. Other than that, she’s attached to her phone twenty-four-seven.”

 

“Do you mind if I go spend a few minutes with her before Noah comes?” he asked.

 

It was endearing and hurl-worthy at the same time, because I’d managed to forget that Noah was coming.

 

“Sure,” I said, grabbing our glasses and heading to the sink. “Good luck!”

 

“Well, then again, I’m a boy,” he said. “Am I allowed up there?”

 

I wheeled around to give him a look, and he started laughing, pointing at me.

 

“I wondered what your mom look would be,” he said. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

 

I bit my lip and instantly dialed back whatever might be glowing in neon across my face. “Boy, I’ll bet you were fun,” I said, tossing a dishrag at him.

 

He laughed and ducked and headed up the stairs, as I stood there and soaked in the five-second normal mother-and-son moment we’d kind of just shared. My chest tightened up and my eyes filled, and I blinked it all away while I rinsed our glasses and put them in the dishwasher.

 

 

 

• • •

 

 

 

When the doorbell rang an hour later, Harley and I both jumped. It had taken me probably forty-five minutes of that to relax and quit peering up the stairway and finally sit down with a book. Not that a single word had registered with me. Harley was in my lap—or part of her was—and the tension had started to unknot itself.

 

At the sound of Noah arriving, however, I felt my neck turn back into an intricate web. I could make some chiropractor very wealthy. Especially with the added fun of Harley using my torso as a springboard.

 

“Jesus,” I groaned as she pushed off and I took my time getting up.

 

On the one hand, it was nerve-wracking with the two of them up there talking about things I didn’t know. I’d been ready for Seth to come down for thirty minutes. And God, what a control freak I was!

 

But on the other hand, Noah coming meant he had to leave, and I could spend weeks living off the joy of that afternoon. Something I never, ever thought I’d do—hang out with my son.

 

Noah coming also meant Noah was coming. And would be standing outside my door looking like—I opened the door—yep, looking just like that.

 

Hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, over clothes that I now knew packaged a dream body, warm and solid. A hooded gaze that absorbed me just as well in my green sweater dress and bare feet.

 

Shit, he looked like sex dipped in chocolate.

 

Harley must have entertained that thought as well, because she went straight for his crotch.

 

“Hey,” he said, deflecting her like a pro.

 

“Hey.”

 

I knew he was thinking about the last time he’d walked through that door. Two days ago. God, that was only two days ago?

 

“Is he ready to go?”

 

I laughed nervously, the moment striking me as one of many of Hayden picking up Becca when she was younger.

 

“Yeah, Dad, he probably is,” I said, holding the door open and standing aside so I could smell him as he walked by. Multitasking. “He’s been upstairs with Becca for an hour. Hopefully he’s still in one piece.”

 

“How did she react?” he asked, his eyes falling to the rug of sin.

 

“Oh, it depends on the day, evidently,” I said, willing to do a jig just to get his eyes off that spot. “Possibly the hour.”

 

Then he turned to me, pinning me with that look of his, and I was thinking the rug wasn’t so bad. I could hear my blood move. His hand came up within inches of my face, and then snapped down, his fingers closing in. He stepped closer and fought his hand again like he couldn’t stand not to touch me.

 

“S-so—how’s Shayna?” I slurred like I was having a stroke, which wasn’t completely out of the question.

 

He blinked but otherwise didn’t look away. “She’s fine. This how it’s gonna be for the rest of our lives?” He pointed between us. “This?”

 

“Yes,” I said. Sort of. Or I mouthed it, really. But as closely as he was watching my mouth, I was pretty sure he caught it.

 

“You aren’t the only one that hasn’t been able to love anyone, Jules,” he said under his breath. “And I’ve tried. Shayna’s the only one to come close, but—”

 

“Don’t.” My mouth went dry and my palms started to sweat.

 

“There’s only one woman that ever fit that bill.”

 

“And I betrayed that,” I said. “I know. And you walked away from it. Together we set a chain of crap in motion, Noah. Twenty-plus years of baggage and lost time.”

 

He stepped closer and reached for my face again, his eyes tortured. “I can’t—”

 

I grasped his hand to stop him, but the touch took my thoughts away like they were dust. I inhaled a little gasp and closed my eyes, squeezing his hand to my chest for just one second. Just one second. Don’t let go.

 

I smiled and pushed the hurt away, opening my eyes and lowering his hand. “Yes, you can. We can.” I let his hand go, wanting to back up a step, but my feet had glued themselves to that damn rug. My voice sounded oddly high, probably because the words were complete bunk. I didn’t believe them any more than he did, but someone had to make a stand. “You have obligations now. And she doesn’t deserve less than all of you.”

 

There were sounds of life above our heads and Becca’s door opened. Noah shook his head slowly—more to himself than to me.

 

And “Love Shack” rang at his hip.

 

“Oh, that fucking song,” I muttered under my breath as I spun around to put some space between us. I walked across the room, finding nonexistent things to pick up as I gulped air. Harley followed me just in case, her nose twitching in interest.

 

Noah grumbled something I couldn’t make out as he silenced the phone and the kids came down the stairs. The kids came down the stairs.

 

Did I actually just think that? I really must be stroking. I turned to see Becca leading the way as Seth followed. Neither of them were really kids anymore, especially not Seth, but still. It was a moment.

 

I pasted on a smile and joined them, and Noah held out a hand to Becca. She stared at it like he was offering her a firecracker.

 

“Haven’t officially met,” he said. “I’m Noah Ryan.”

 

She took his hand with a small smile. “Becca White. Wow, you two really do look alike.”

 

Noah beamed, whether he was aware of it or not, and Seth smiled.

 

“And you favor your mom,” Seth said, of course registering with me right away that he hadn’t said just Mom or our mom, but that was just my crazy peeking out. “Except for this side,” Seth continued, batting at the long side of her hair. “So, do you start leaning this way after a while?” he asked, cocking his head to one side. “Maybe walk in circles?”

 

“Ha ha,” she said, punching him in the arm and then aiming for his head, for which he was too quick. She may have acted put off, but I saw something different in her face. Something needy.

 

“Coffee tomorrow?” Seth said, looking at me.

 

Oh, he drank coffee. I loved him even more.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“What time are you up?” he asked.

 

I’ll get up at three in the morning if you ask me to.

 

“Seven?” I said. “I don’t have to be at the store till nine thirty.”

 

“See you then,” he said with a nod.

 

“See you then,” I echoed.

 

Noah’s phone went off again, just as I was standing next to him again. Jesus, it was like she sensed the proximity. He hit the button, his jaw tight.

 

“She’s not much of a texter, is she?” I asked.

 

“Oh, I like that song,” Becca said.

 

“Yeah, I used to, too,” I said. Out loud. Unintentionally. “Have fun tonight,” I added quickly, putting on a smile.

 

Seth hooked an arm around Becca’s neck and hugged her, then me. For real. On his own terms this time. He smiled down at me, so grown up, and of course I teared up. What the hell else did I do anymore?

 

I swatted at his chest and laughed as I swiped at my eyes. “Go on,” I said. “Y’all get out of here.”

 

Seth backed up and then Noah’s hand was squeezing mine like it finally won the battle. He looked down at the union like he was surprised, and then let go, looking up at me with a sadness.

 

“Bye,” I whispered. It was all my brain could muster. And the kick to my gut felt like much more.

 

 

 

• • •

 

 

 

When the door shut, the only noise was Harley’s tail thumping against a metal vase. I turned to see Becca standing with her arms crossed, not quite looking at me. I wasn’t up for that showdown again. Not just yet. I wanted to know how it went with Seth, but we weren’t in that place. So I walked around her to my favorite spot on one of the couches, sat with a pillow in my lap, and opened my book.

 

Slow footsteps faded upward as she went to her room, but to my surprise the sounds came back down again. I glanced up from the pages I again wasn’t reading to see her sit tentatively on the opposite couch, notebook and pen in hand.

 

“Mind if I sit in here with you?” she asked.

 

I shook my head as all the strings of my heart yanked at the same time.

 

She scooted back and arranged herself to be cocooned with pillows and an afghan, then opened her notebook and hovered her pen for just a second.

 

“He’s okay,” she said, not looking up. One corner of her mouth twitched upward as if she were remembering something funny. “Seth’s okay.”

 

“Yes, he is,” I said.

 

“I like him.”

 

“I’m glad.”

 

It wasn’t an apology, but it was her version of working up to one. She met my eyes for the briefest of seconds and then started scribbling madly in her book. I focused on the pages in front of me and let the words seep in.

 

 

 

• • •

 

 

 

The next morning started with a ring of my doorbell that I expected to be Seth. I had coffee ready, as well as biscuits and honey. Just in case. Not from scratch or anything, let’s not get crazy. And I figured that serving him a sliced apple probably wouldn’t have screamed motherly.

 

The view I received when I opened the door was even better. Nana Mae, arm in arm with a grinning Seth. Her with big fat tears in her eyes, a photo album, and a big bag of donuts. She understood mothering a lot better than I did.

 

“Look who I found outside!” she said, her voice trembling with joy.

 

We had a sugar feast, went down a deeper rendition of memory lane, and fought Harley for the donuts and biscuits, although I suspected that Seth was sneaking her bites on the side.

 

Becca got ready early for school and actually stuck around for a bit before leaving. Granted, the contraband food didn’t hurt. There still wasn’t conversation of any real quality between she and I, just the obligatory Q&A, but that was on her this time. She was going to have to throw the first flag. Truancy, boys in her room, and alcohol—all in one day—my mother would have stroked on the spot. I was doing pretty well, I thought. It dawned on me to call Hayden. He would think I should. Which was precisely why I didn’t.

 

Nana Mae and Seth left together, her insisting that he come over and help her get some things down from the attic. She hadn’t been up in that attic in over five years, maybe more, but I kept that little detail to myself.

 

I plopped onto the couch after they were gone and leaned over onto a pillow so Harley and I could be eye to eye. Also because I honestly could have fallen asleep like that. Meeting Seth the day before, wondering about his dinner with Noah (that I had not asked one word about over coffee, I was proud to say), on top of Becca’s antics had put my brain on overdrive. It just wouldn’t shut off.

 

I was mostly ready for work, anyway. Ready in a very going-casual-today kind of way. Jeans again. How far I’d fallen. My mom would have grimaced. And on that note, I wondered what Ruthie would say if I showed up in my robe.

 

At any rate, a few minutes of lazy time couldn’t hurt, and Harley was closing her eyes as well as I scratched her favorite spot under her chin. It was one of those comfortable moments when you feel that pull into the black hole, when—the doorbell rang again.

 

Harley jumped, her closed eyes now wide in panic as she ran to the door and sniffed once and took up her barking medley. I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, wondering who had forgotten what and when my door had become so friggin’ popular.

 

And opened the door to Shayna. Before I could even register that something was off about her—the crooked and straggly ponytail, the red puffy eyes and no makeup—she came running in past me.

 

“Um, what’s the matter?” I asked, shutting the door.

 

A new wave of tears flooded her eyes and streaked down reddened cheeks.

 

“Is Noah here?”

 

What? Guilt, panic, and major backpedaling flooded my brain. “Here? No! Why would he be here?”

 

She took a deep breath of something that looked panicked, and yet a little relieved at the same time.

 

“Noah’s gone.”