Rule #9 (20 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I don’t want to go to school today. Jack hasn’t been to school for the last three days, which makes him ineligible for the game this weekend. My dad and the other coaches are mad as hell. I could care less about the stupid football game. I’m more worried about my boyfriend.

My boyfriend. I don’t even care that he’s been to jail. I don’t care why or how or when or how long. I just want him back. I need to know he’s okay, and the only one that might have that information is Alicia.

I find her sitting at the island in the kitchen, scanning her tablet. Both dogs are under her chair. They don’t move when I enter the room.

“Can I ask you something?” I say quietly.

She puts her reader down. “He’s fine.”

“Is jail the secret?” I can’t bring myself to say the words
jail
and
Jack
in the same sentence. It doesn’t even seem possible.

“Yes…that’s why your dad didn’t want him around you.”

Alicia informs me that Jack’s stepdad Billy had left his mom, but not before taking everything she had and beating her up—again. “That’s part of the reason he didn’t play football his sophomore year in Kentucky,” Alicia says. She stands and starts putting food together on a plate.

“I didn’t know he didn’t play last year.” I pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Billy beat up Jack’s mom. Jack beat up Billy.” Alicia hands me the vanilla creamer.

I pour the creamer into my coffee, which is more cream than coffee.

“After Lily and Sissy bailed him out of jail, I helped Lily find support systems out there, and he survived. The kid has been through too much crap. And he still has court. He put Billy in the hospital.”

“How do you do it?” I sit on the bar stool at the island.

“Do what?” She pulls a breakfast burrito out of the microwave and sets it in front of me.

“Work with messed up families. I mean, you see so much bad stuff. I don’t know how you do it and keep a smile on your face. It’s like that baby on the news a few weeks ago. The mother’s stupid boyfriend killed him. He shook that baby so hard it killed him. Who was watching out for that baby? Crap, his mom was doing drugs.”

My father bangs into the room before Alicia can answer. “I’ve had enough of your shit, Massie Trask. Go to your room. I’ll be up in a minute. You and I are going to talk.”

I don’t care anymore. I really do hate him. I fall off the bar stool and it crashes to the floor. My legs feel weak. I have to get out of here. This time, I’m never coming back.

Alicia stands in front of me to block me from leaving. She gently places her hand on my shoulder. I allow my body to relax but only for a moment. I won’t stay long. Once I find my hole, I’ll run right up the middle.

“No, Joel,” Alicia says in a calm voice. “You need to get your crap and find a place to stay until Massie’s mom gets home. You can’t walk into a room, hear half of a conversation, and explode at your daughter like that. Joel, she’s your daughter. You’re supposed to take her side.”

“But you were the case manager for that baby,” he says.

I sink to the floor. I can feel the acid rise to my throat.

“She didn’t know that, Joel. Like you didn’t know that telling your daughter the boy of her dreams had a date for homecoming would shatter her.”

My father stomps out of the room. “I can’t do anything right.”

Alicia pulls me up from the floor.

“I’ll go,” I say. Alicia doesn’t need this. “I can stay with Vianna. Her mom won’t mind.”

“No, you won’t. This is your home too.”

I nod and go to my room. My father marches up to their room and Alicia follows. They stay in quarantine for the rest of the night.

#

With trays full of food, the three of us—Natalie, Vianna, and I—find an empty spot at one of the tables in the commons. Stephanie doesn’t think it’s a good idea for Natalie to see Annabelle. All Annabelle remembers is her big sister stabbed her in the leg with something and it hurt, really super bad. And of course nobody sticks up for Natalie.

“I’m glad Moo-Moo’s okay. She can hate me forever as long as she’s okay,” Natalie says, picking at her food.

“Have you talked to your dad?” I open my sandwich and remove the brown shreds of lettuce. Having the sub shop at school doesn’t mean we get primo lunches.

“He’s tried to call the past few days. I’m not talking to him. They won’t let me see Moo-Moo, so there’s no reason to talk. He can kiss my ass,” Natalie says.

“Does your brother go over there?” I ask.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t tell me anything,” Natalie says.

“What does your mom say?” Vianna asks.

“She said that new moms are freaky. And if they only have one kid they’re worse. Then she went all psycho on me about how she’s way prettier than Stephanie. You know how my mom is. It’s all about her. But my baby sister thinks I hurt her. The longer they let her believe I hurt her, the harder it’s gonna be for her to forgive me.” Natalie pushes her food away.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pick apart my bun, which has stale pieces that are dry and discolored.

“That’s not what they think,” Natalie says.

“Do you want Alicia to talk to Stephanie?” I ask.

“You and your perfect stepmom, how did you luck out?” Natalie huffs.

“I don’t know,” I say, feeling guilty.

I haven’t told my friends about the conversation Alicia had with their stepmothers at the hospital. My friends are mad enough that my stepmonster’s nice—maybe mad isn’t the right word. More like jealous. I think they’d like to push me out of their club, but the fact that my father’s still an idiot saves me. And I’m pretty sure that rules four through seven help as well.

Vianna’s eyes light up. “My dad’s furious that I’m going to school in Nebraska. He tried working with his lawyer to tie up my college fund. My mom put an end to that, though. She sent my dad a copy of my first semester bill paid in full. And she included a Proud Husker Parent bumper sticker.”

“How’d that go over?” I ask.

“The bumper sticker was cut into tiny pieces and mailed back to me. Not to my mom, but me,” Vianna says.

“He needs to grow up.” I shake my head. “I’ve come to the conclusion that fathers are worse than little girls when they don’t get their way.”

“He didn’t do it. Wendy did. I called him. He was embarrassed, I could tell. He got all quiet and didn’t know what to say.” Vianna takes a bite of her fries. She chews, swallows, and then says, “I finally told him that he needed to figure it out. I wasn’t going to fight with him or his wife anymore. I told him it wasn’t my fault her son failed out of high school and couldn’t keep a job. I told him it wasn’t my fault my mother had natural beauty and a brain that went along with it. His new wife needed to get over it. I told him that he should love his wife, I never said he shouldn’t. I told him I was sick of competing with her, though, and I was done. If he wanted to see me, that was fine. If not, I’d survive. I have a mom. Then I hung up on him. He hasn’t called me since.”

Vianna takes a huge bite of her chicken sandwich, and Natalie and I follow suit. I’m so proud of my timid friend. The tables are turning.

#

Jack shows up after school. He leans against the railing on the second floor. He looks tired and worn. Even the emerald in his eyes has faded; it’s like someone took out the blue and added more yellow. When he sees me he stands, but his shoulders remain rounded and hunched. I quicken my walk. He holds out his hand. I wrap my fingers around his and squeeze tight. We walk down the stairs together. “Wanna go to the pottery shop tonight?" he asks.

“Yeah, sure, sounds fun.” I lean into him. There’s nothing he could say that would make me walk away. Well, there might be, but I doubt that will be the case.

“I have a lot to tell you, and I’m afraid you’ll leave.”

“No leaving.” I squeeze his hand. “You okay?” We stand outside the athletic wing of the school. He won’t miss any more practice even though he can’t play this week. There are tons of people around. Some of the guys sneer at us as they walk by. Other guys pat him on the back. They need Jack for the game this weekend.

“Yes. No. We bought her bus ticket to Texas. She wanted money, but she settled for the ticket to Texas.” Jack leans against the wall, his right foot steadying him.

“Who’s in Texas?” I ask.

“My granddad. Hopefully he can help her. But, like Granddad always says, when you lay down with the dogs, you’re sure to get up with the fleas.”

I hold on tight to Jack’s hand. Now that he’s back, my world no longer seems to spin. But his seems like it’s a top spinning out of control. I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. All I can do is listen.

“My mama tried to get back together with that asshole Billy, but he drinks. Billy blacks out, and then he kicks the shit out of her.” Jack clenches his fist. His foot hits the floor; then he rocks back and forth. “So she left him again. Then she went out on a date with another guy—some other loser, I’m sure. Anyway, Billy got jealous. He went after the guy and put him in the hospital. The bastard’s finally in jail. They’re not sure the guy’s going to survive. And my mom can’t pay her bills,
again
. It never ends.”

Jack looks at me, then down the hall, and then at his watch. I let go of his hand. “It’s okay, go. I’ll pick you up after practice.” I kiss him on the cheek, then climb up the stairs to the library. I’ll just wait for him here.

#

We show up at the pottery place only to find a note on the door:
Family
Emergency Classes Canceled. Sorry for the inconvenience.

“I didn’t think she had any kin here,” Jack says, scanning the parking lot.

“Maybe she had to go out of town? Although she crossed out the word family.” I point to the note. “Who knows?”

My phone rings. It’s my father. I ignore the call—literally, I hit the ignore key so it goes straight to voicemail. He doesn’t leave a message, he calls right back. I ignore the call again. I’m not ready to make up. But my father’s persistent.

Text from my father:
Alicia’s dad in the hospital. Heart attack.

I drop my phone. Jack picks it up, looks at the screen and then wraps me in his arms. I can’t move, I can’t talk. Is Benny dead? I can’t even ask the question. I stand there with my arms limp while Jack holds me. I can’t even cry. Jack uses my phone to call my dad.

“He’s at St. Francis.” Jack waits for me to respond.

I know I should say something, anything, or make some kind of movement toward my car. All I can do is hand Jack my keys.

#

My father sits with the woman from the pottery shop, Bianca, in the empty waiting room. The smell of rubbing alcohol penetrates my nose. I don’t know how Jack and I even got here. I know I didn’t drive. But I don’t remember walking in. It’s like the world stopped and turned black. Not just a haze that hinders sight but complete emptiness surrounds me.

“Alicia’s in with her dad.” My father stands and hugs me. I’m still mad, but I can’t help sinking into his arms like I did when I was small, that safe place that nobody can penetrate through. My dad hasn’t hugged me like this for months. I’ve needed this. But this isn’t the way I wanted to get my daddy back.

We wait for what seems like hours. My dad paces back and forth, answering phone calls and emails on his smartphone. Jack taps on his iPod, playing some tower game. Bianca can’t stay in the room, so she kneels in the chapel on the main floor, praying with beads. I close my eyes. I can’t talk. I need to know that everything’s going to be okay.

Lily shows up with salads, sandwiches, and coffee. She tries to offer me something, anything.

“Thanks, I’m not hungry,” I say.

“Darlin’, you have to eat.” Lily pulls me up from the chair and sits with me while I force the green leaves down. She doesn’t talk. Instead, she fills the fork with food each time I set it down.

I force a quarter of it down, then push it away. Lily stands and fluffs the pillows she brought from home. Alicia’s escorted back into the waiting room by a hospital volunteer on one side of her and a man with a white collar on the other. The priest looks young, really young. I thought all priests were old.

My mom’s Catholic. I’m actually Catholic, as far as my first communion goes. I wore the white dress and the flowered tiara to church in second grade. I ate the wafer, and I remember the sweet taste of the wine. My mom doesn’t go to church anymore, so I don’t either. I don’t know what my father does, which is strange. I should know this.

The priest smiles and talks as if nothing is wrong. “So you’re Massie?” the priest asks.

“Yes.” Great, Alicia talks to her priest about me. That can’t be good. I haven’t been very nice. He probably hates me.

“I’m Father Joe. Benny wanted to make sure you read this.” He hands me a torn piece of paper.

Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but they tell us dragons can be beaten.—G.K. Chesterton.

My own dragon lingers inside me. I’ve learned that if I open up, my dragon’s power fades. I can laugh. I can find happiness. I can let people in who will change my world and make it bright. Benny has taught me this. But when I fester and retreat, my dragon gains power. I know it’s not really Alicia and most of the time it’s not even my dad. But when my dad does bring out the worst in me, I should tell him. My dad can’t tell me. That’s my father’s dragon, his inability to communicate when things aren’t easy.