Independence
From the time we are born, we start seeking our independence. First it is merely trying to roll over. Then we stand and eventually we take our first step without anyone holding our hand. Later, we learn to do more on our own. We tie our shoes, get dressed, drive a car and at some point, we gain complete independence. This is our first real achievement.
BREEZE
SHAME WAS NEVER home before nine, but of course today he was home. It’s like he had radar that sensed when I didn’t want him around. The doorbell rang and Gus barked as he and Shame beat me to the front door. I wasn’t sure which one of them was the bigger animal. Both of their chests swelled while Shame opened the door.
“Is Breeze here?” Lance asked. I could tell he was nervous and I found it adorable.
“Yeah,” Shame said and Gus growled. Shame could have stopped the mutt, but he didn’t.
“Can I see her?” Lance asked with an awkward grin and his eyes trained on Gus.
“Not unless you plan on telling me who you are. How about we try this again.” My skin flamed red. Shame closed the door right in Lance’s face. The doorbell rang again, and he finally silenced Gus before he opened it.
“Hello, Mr. O’Rilley, I’m Lance.”
Lance held his hand out, but Shame stared at it. He was not going to make this easy.
“Seamus.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Shame turned his head, mouthing sir at me. Ha ha! I hoped he felt like an old fart. “I’m here to study with Breeze. Is she home?”
“Sure, come on in, Lance.”
Lance slid nervously around Gus. “He’s harmless,” I said and walked toward my room with Lance behind me.
“Study dates at the table, Dimples,” Shame called out.
I inhaled sharply through my nose but went to the table.
Could I be any more mortified?
Gus sat astride the table, keeping his eyes on Lance.
Shame plopped down on the couch, kicked his sneakers up on the coffee table and watched us intently. His handgun entered my side vision, and I whipped my head around to stare at him. He had this strange look on his face.
“Hey kid,” Shame called over.
“Yeah,” Lance replied.
“Do you know what this is?”
My jaw dropped. Apparently I could be more mortified.
Lance’s eyes bugged out. “Um . . . it’s . . . a . . . gun, sir?”
“Do you know why I have it?”
I narrowed my eyes at Shame, silently praying he would choke on his own spit.
“Uh . . . uh . . . I guess to protect yourself,” Lance answered.
“Shame, stop,” I warned.
Ignoring me, Shame held the gun up as if aiming it at Lance. A sinister grin formed on his lips. “Not me. I have it to protect what’s mine.” I turned my head to Lance in time to see him gulp. “Do you understand what I’m saying, son?”
I made a noise in my throat, glaring at Shame. His smile only seemed to grow.
“Yes, sir,” Lance said and lowered his gaze to his math textbook.
“Good.” Shame grinned, victorious. “You can study now.”
I mouthed an apology to Lance but it didn’t seem to calm his nerves. Not that I could blame him. Most people had never seen a gun, let alone had one pointed at them. I was grateful he didn’t run from the house. An awkward energy hung in the air as we discussed perimeters and area. Anytime Lance leaned too close to me, Gus growled, which made Lance jump.
Shame’s gaze followed me when I went to the fridge to get two bottles of water. Over the hour together, Lance only spoke when it concerned schoolwork. Gus and Shame intimidated him and Shame reveled in it. I saw him smirking out of the corner of my eye. “Go lay down,” I ordered Gus, pointing to Shame’s room. When he complied, I shot Shame a look and turned my attention back to Lance.
“So, when’s your first football game?” I asked once we wrapped up homework.
“Next Friday,” Lance answered, and then glanced sideways at Shame before looking at me again. “Um . . . Do you want to come?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Shame coughed, the kind that warned Lance he should leave.
“Great. Um.” Lance scrambled, putting his books in his backpack. “I should get going, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Shame walked over to the door and held it open for him. Lance kept his head down as he went through the door. Shame’s grin stretched ear to ear as he watched Lance descend the stairs. Once the door closed, I asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
“You didn’t ask permission to go to the football game.” His tone was serious but he grinned, which confused me.
“Are you freaking serious?” I shouted.
I couldn’t believe I stomped my foot, and Shame blinked back as if equally surprised.
“Yes, I’m freaking serious, Dimples.”
I strode away to the table and began cleaning up. “You were acting like a freak long before the football game came up.”
“I don’t think you should date boys until you’re out of high school.”
“Oh, but yesterday, Lance was a nice kid,” I huffed.
“That was before I remembered how guys think. You can thank your friend Pocket for reminding me.”
His head titled to the side, his expression one of pure satisfaction.
“Oh, my God. Is that what this is about?” I asked.
“You have way too much going for you to screw up now.” His arms folded in front of his chest. He stood tall, showcasing his strength. “Boys are a distraction.”
Of course boys were a distraction. They had been since the start of man. I was fairly positive cave boys had scribbled the trickery on the walls.
Idiot!
I felt hurt, which was stupid, but I couldn’t control my emotions. Childish as it was, I slammed my book down. “By the way, so is Sabina.”
“Sabina and I are adults!” Shame shouted. “And I’m not responsible for her.”
“Well, I’m not Pocket,” I shouted right back.
“No you’re not, but only because I’m here to make sure you don’t fuck up, and I’m not letting some hormonal teenage, sperm shooter knock you up.”
It felt so good to roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re grounded. Don’t leave this fucking house!”
Something inside me cracked wide open. That was it for me. Hurt faded away and anger charged in to take its place.
“I have done everything you’ve asked. I cook, clean, and pick up after you slobs. By the way, can you tell the guys to aim for the giant fucking hole in the toilet?” His eyes widened. “Oh, and leaving one square on the roll does not mean there’s still toilet paper. I mean seriously, there’s a fresh roll in arms reach. You can even replace it while you take a shit!” He had the nerve to laugh, which only made me angrier. I pointed my finger as I stepped closer. “I get straight A’s, I check in with you. But I’m lonely and thanks to your dumb brother, my best friend moved a million miles away and my only other friend is a dog. It would be nice to have a social life that didn’t involve talking to grown men while they scratch their asses and wipe boogers on the furniture. Is it too much to ask for a little independence?”
He didn’t respond. Instead chose to stare at me with those dark eyes, seething with hostility. He didn’t understand me at all. It was insanely frustrating. Trying to get through to Shame was like trying to thread a sewing needle with yarn, damn near impossible.
His stanch demeanor and lack of consideration meant it was time to give up. I stormed off to my room and slammed the door. Seconds later, I heard Shame’s boots thundering down the stairs to the clubhouse. The man had a truckload of issues. He was impossible to deal with and all I wanted was to go home to my dad. I was lonely there too, but at least I had freedom. I didn’t have to answer to anyone.
Gus scratched at the door and I got up to let him in. He joined me on the bed, putting his head in my lap. I scratched the fur between his eyes with my index finger and kissed the top of his head. “Your owner’s a real asshole.”
He made a noise and I settled in next to him. I wiped my eyes. Screw Shame. I wasn’t staying in the house. I told Gus to be good, got out of bed and went to the door.
“Sorry, Breeze,” Dusty said from outside my door.
A growl erupted from my chest. “Seriously? He sent you to babysit me?”
“He says you can’t leave this room.”
“This is bullshit!”
Dusty didn’t say anything and I slammed the door in his face. Shame infuriated me and there was nothing I could do about it other than accept his house, his rules, and my prison. I crawled up on the bed, feeling the anger buzzing through my veins. Before long, my emotions caught up with me and dragged me to sleep.
A soft knock at my door woke me up.
“Come in.”
The door opened but I refused to roll over and look at him.
“You can go to the football game,” Shame said.
I smiled. “You went and talked to Viv, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
At some point, I needed to speak with Viv and find out how she could talk freely with Shame without upsetting him.
“Thank you.”
I was smarter than Pocket. Not to mention I didn’t have any interest in sex. I finally rolled over and made eye contact with Shame.
“You want me to tell the guys to sit when they take a piss?” he asked.
I huffed a laugh. “Whatever works.”
That week, school became a whole new experience. I sat with Lance and his friends at lunch. His friend, who they called, Lars, which was short for Larson, was my favorite. He recently moved here, also, from Tennessee, I think. His personality was as large as he was and he made the whole table laugh.
“You gonna eat that, little bit?” Lars asked.
“Little bit?” I giggled.
“Well, yeah, you ain’t no bigger than a bit.”
I shook my head. “Do you want my brownie, Lars?”
“Well, if you’re not gonna eat it.”
“You’re gonna pop there, big boy, if you keep eating everyone’s desserts,” Lance teased, which earned him a shoulder bump from Lars.
“Don’t you worry about me,” Lars said. “I need to keep my weight up if I’m gonna protect your scrawny ass.”
“You better do something. That linebacker from Marlboro has seven sacks already this season.”
“I got you, dawg.” Lars waggled his eyebrows at me. “How ‘bout it, little bit.” I picked up the brownie, watching his puppy dog eyes frown as I mocked taking a huge bite before handing it to him. “Now that was cruel.”
I gave him a wink and laughed.
There were a few girls in the group as well. Evelyn, whom I knew since kindergarten, dated Lance’s friend, Brian. I didn’t know Raelyn or Kelly, but they seemed nice, although they clearly liked Lance. They stared at him all through lunch. When Lance drank from his water bottle, Raelyn sighed and said, “I’ve never wanted to be a water bottle so bad in my life.”
Both girls giggled and I turned my head.
I had never been to a football game, and the packed stadium surprised me. The players were warming up on the field and I spotted Lance throwing a ball with one of his teammates. I scanned the bleachers, not sure where I would be comfortable sitting. Raelyn and Kelly had been nice to me at school, but it wasn’t like we were friends. I didn’t know if it was appropriate for me to join them.
Thankfully, I found Lance’s grandma. Although I had never met her, she held a sign that read Young #12 Football Grandma. I sat next to her and introduced myself.
She smiled and patted me on the knee.
“So, you’re the young lady living with The Bastards.”
My eyes widened but then I blinked. “That’s me. But I’m not . . . you know . . . like them.”
She waved a hand. “Oh, honey, I’m not worried. I’ve known Seamus since he was knee high to a fart. He doesn’t scare me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I had never met anybody who didn’t fear Shame.
“Glad to hear it,” I said, relaxing.
“I know a little something about your daddy as well.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Oh.”
“Yeah, you might be better off without him.” Her blunt comment felt like a punch in the chest. I wanted to cry but I sucked in a huge breath and held it. “Or you might not,” she continued. “But you seem like a nice girl. Better be good to my Lance or you can answer to this old lady.”
I let out the breath with a laugh. I was going to like Lance’s feisty grandma.
Lance played quarterback and they won the game by a touchdown. Afterward, I walked with Mrs. Higgins to the locker room to wait for Lance. He came out, beaming as he approached us and spun a football on the tip of his index finger.
“Game ball, Gran,” he said, handing her the ball.
“You played well kiddo, but you need to work on reading the option.”
I laughed and Lance shook his head. “Yes, ma’am, I will. I have to stay for Varsity, but I’ll be home after.”
He kissed his grandma on the cheek and she left us to go home.
“She’s very sweet,” I said to Lance, twisting bashfully at the waist.
“Yeah, she’s the best.” The adoration he felt shined in his eyes.
“Well, you played great,” I said, then frowned. “Um, I better get home.”
“Do you want to stay and hang out with me?”
“Sure, I need to check in with Shame first.” I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. “Oh, I bet that’s him now.”
I glowed with excitement when I saw the picture of Pocket, sticking her tongue at me, pop up on my phone. She had not replied to the thousand texts messaged I sent to see if she was doing okay in Iowa.
“I gotta take this,” I told Lance, who nodded and told me to meet him by the snack shack.
“Thank God,” I answered. “I was beginning to think your dad sent you to a convent.”
I walked toward the parking lot where there was less noise. The line filled with the sound of Pocket crying.
“What’s wrong?”
She sucked in a few gasps of air. “I lost the baby.”
“Oh, God. Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
I was sad for her, but I felt kind of excited, too. “So does this mean you’re moving back home?”
“No. My dad thinks it’s better for me to stay with Grandma.”
My excitement fizzled. “Oh. That sucks.”
“Is Liam at the clubhouse?” she asked. “He hung up on me earlier and now he won’t answer his phone.”
“I’m not sure. I’m at the school right now.”
“You are?” she asked surprised, which I understood. It wasn’t like me to hang out at school.
“Yeah, Lance had a football game so I came to watch.”
“Lance? The new boy from California?”
“That’s the one.”
“Do you like him?”
“A little. He’s sweet and his friends are nice to me.” Silence hummed in the line. “Pocket?”
“I guess you’re getting along fine without me.”
Her sad voice made me frown. She had lost so much and I’m sure she missed home. “Don’t be silly. I miss you like crazy.”
“Well, if you see Liam, will you tell him I’m sorry and to call me?”
“Of course. But tell me—”
I tried not to be offended when the line died. She was going through a lot and obviously didn’t want to hear about my happiness. I felt bad, like I rubbed it in, which wasn’t my intention.
Shame answered his phone on the first ring. “Is the game over?”
“Yes, but can I stay for the varsity game? I promise to come home right after.”
“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough in that shirt?” he asked.
How did he know what I was wearing?
He wasn’t home when I left for the game. I spun around, looking for him.
“I’ll be fine,” I answered and then spotted him, grinning like a fool from the other side of the fence in front of the row of parked cars.
“You sure about that?” he laughed.
I walked over to him, shaking my head as I slipped my phone in the pocket of my jeans. He held out my coat and a wool beanie.
I took them from him and smiled. “Thank you, but I would’ve been fine.”
“Maybe, but I wanted to make sure you were warm enough.”
“That was sweet.”
His forehead creased tight as if saying he was sweet troubled him. “It was Viv’s idea. Since I’m responsible for you and all. Be home by ten. Got it?”
“Got it.” I smiled then frowned, knowing I had to tell Shame about Pocket. “You should know I got a call from Pocket . . . She lost the baby.”
“Fuck. I gotta find Liam . . . Ten o’clock,” he reminded me before he turned away. I watched him climb in the Camaro across the street, before going to find Lance.
He was waiting for me by the snack shack like he said he would be. Lars picked me up off the ground and spun me around, hollering about how they kicked ass. “Did you see it, little bit? We kicked some Marlboro ass.”
“I saw,” I laughed. “Now could you put me down?”
The rest of the evening, I felt something strange. I felt normal. For the first time in my life, I had friends, good grades and a stable home life. The only thing missing was my best friend. I hoped she would be okay.
What happens when we realize being independent is difficult? How do we let people know when we want them to hold our hand? For most, asking for help is hard, so we foolishly to choose to go at it alone.
SHAME
“Hey, Mad, have you heard from Liam?”
“Not today, why?” Her voice rose with concern. “Is he okay?”
“I need to find him. If you hear from him will you let me know?”
“Of course, but should I be worried?”
“Not sure yet.”
I hung up and continued driving to Dozer’s. The light on in the living room gave me hope Liam was home, as I had sent Dozer on a club errand. No one answered when I knocked. I felt my heart rate kick up.
My thoughts raced with what I might find inside. Liam threatened suicide once after our Pop died. He was thirteen. I never thought he would go through with it but love does strange things to men, especially impressionable young men.
The knob turned and I paused, taking in a deep breath before I opened the door. The light from the television flickered, bouncing off the walls like strobes. I saw his shoe dangling from the end of the couch. My anxiety spiked, knowing if someone entered the house, my brother would shoot up to find out who had entered.
So why wasn’t he?
I rounded the couch slowly, afraid to breathe, and terrified I might have lost a brother. Then I exhaled when I saw he was okay, or at least breathing. He stared blankly at the television, holding a beer in his lap.
“Liam.” He didn’t acknowledge my presence. I noticed the bottle of pills on the side table was still full. “Say something, kid.”
His focus remained with the television. “Something.”
I would take sarcasm. At least he spoke.
I lifted his feet and sat, bringing his legs to rest on my thighs. “I know this sucks, but . . .”
“Don’t.”
I shut up, because even though he wasn’t ready to be a parent, Liam didn’t need me to tell him how losing the baby would one day be seen as a blessing. “All right, but tell me you’re good.”
“She isn’t coming back.”
There were so many things I wanted to say, like how there were other girls and he would meet someone else. All that cliché bullshit would only lead to a fight, so I opted to steal his beer and sit with him in silence until he fell asleep. As fiercely independent as my kid brother tried to be, he needed me, even if he refused to admit it.
When we refuse to depend on anyone else, we are doomed to a life of solitude. We deny ourselves help that might make our circumstances easier. When we are especially stubborn, we may even push away those we love most. Independence is not all it is cracked up to be. The brutal truth is complete independence is lonely.