All the Broken Pieces (13 page)

Spencer took a giant step back.

Working to hide her disappointment, Liv turned to Katie and gave her a high-five. “Thanks, Katie.”

“Now you go again.” Katie grabbed Liv’s arm and tugged her over to retrieve the bowling ball the machine had spit back out. “And it’ll get easier every time.”

Liv watched Spencer sit down and retie one of his shoelaces. Hopefully, bowling wasn’t the only thing that would get easier every time. Because now that she’d experienced how it felt to be right next to him, all she wanted was to get back to that place and linger for a while.

…

Katie was right about how good Spencer was—he got strike after strike, and when he didn’t get a strike, he almost always picked up his spares. And Spencer was right about Katie being chatty. She talked nonstop, explaining the ins and outs as they played. But she didn’t mind; Katie’s enthusiasm was catching, and there was something comforting about the constant chatter.

Once in a while, Liv would look at Spencer and think about the fact that he’d been arrested. But then she decided that whatever had actually happened that night, it didn’t matter. The way he talked to his sister and the way he encouraged her instead of making her feel stupid—he was a good guy. That was all there was to it.

At the end of the game, her score was the lowest. By a lot.

Spencer draped his arm over her shoulders as they looked at their scores. “Not too bad for your first time. Not too great, either.”

“Rude,” Liv said, jabbing her elbow into his gut.

They were laughing when Spencer’s face suddenly fell.

“Spencer,” a man said as he approached. He was holding hands with a lady who looked quite a bit younger than he was, but too old to be his daughter. “Angel! You’re here, too. What a nice surprise.”

Katie ran up to the guy and gave him a huge hug. “Hi, Daddy. I was just talking to Spencer about how we used to come here all the time.”

The man’s attention turned back to Spencer, then landed on her. “New girlfriend?”

The serious expression Spencer wore way too often was back on his face. “Katie, get your shoes on. We’re going.”

“Why don’t you kids stay and play a game with us?”

Spencer turned away from his dad without answering, leaving Liv standing there. Unsure what else to do, she changed out of her bowling shoes, back into her flip-flops. Then she gathered Katie’s and Spencer’s rental shoes and took them back. By the time she’d done that, Spencer and Katie were near the door waiting for her.

Liv glanced back at Spencer’s dad, who was staring at them. “If you want to stay—”

“I don’t.” Spencer put his hand on her back and practically shoved her out the door.

“I do,” Katie said. “We never see him.”

“Just get in the car, Katie. We need to drop off Liv and get back home.”

As they rode through town in silence, Liv slumped down in her seat, thinking that no matter how good a night with Spencer started out, it always seemed to end in a quiet, awkward car ride home.

19

Looking out the passenger window, Liv’s eyes fixed on the red Ford truck parked in front of the tiny, run-down house. “Oh great. She’s got company. Again.”

When she turned away, her bangs fell into her face. She started to brush them back, then held them up for a better look.
Blond.
Glancing down, she saw not a cheerleading uniform, but a bright pink top, tight jeans, and silver heels.

A hand wrapped around hers. “I’m sorry, baby. I know how much that bugs you.”

Jace was the only one who knew what her life was really like, and even then, she hid things from him, too. She glanced at the truck again. She didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it. She wanted a distraction from the anger. From the shame. She slid her hands behind Jace’s neck and pressed her lips to his.

His arms encircled her, pulling her onto his lap. She pressed her body against his, soaking in his kiss, his warmth, wishing she could stay in his arms all night.

Liv reluctantly broke away and looked at the clock. “I better get in there. She’s been riding me about curfew lately. Heaven forbid I don’t come home in time to meet the man of the night.”

Jace gave her another quick peck on the lips. “I’ll call you later.”

Liv got out of the car and walked up the driveway, each step bringing her closer to the last place she wanted to be. Gripping the door handle, she turned it slowly, hoping to sneak in unnoticed. She slipped inside, soundlessly closed the door, turned…and made eye contact with a woman with sandy blond hair—the older version of herself—coming out of the kitchen, two beer bottles in hand.

Mom set the bottles on the hall table. “Didn’t I say eleven?” Her words slurred together. “You’re late.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Liv said. “Give me a break.”

“I don’t want you out with that boy every night, getting yourself into trouble. The last thing I need is a knocked-up daughter.”

Liv glanced at the strange man on the couch. Dozens of empty beer bottles filled the coffee table. “At least I stick with one guy.”

The slap was hard enough to send her head in the opposite direction.

Cheek burning, Liv clenched her teeth and glared.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that! I’m trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did.”

“Like having me when you were sixteen? I love being referred to as a mistake, by the way. But thanks for all your help. Your World’s Best Mom trophy is in the mail.”

Mom shook her head and pointed down the hall. “Go to your room.”

“No problem.” Liv patted her thigh. A large golden retriever appeared by her side. “Come on, Duke. Let’s give Mother her privacy.”

Liv walked down the hall, entered her room, and closed the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. Duke jumped up, resting his head in her lap. As she scratched his ear, the silver charms on the bracelet Jace gave her rattled.

She let go of the tears she’d been trying to hold back. Her cheek still burned from the slap. Mom had probably felt bad for all of two seconds before taking those beers to tonight’s one-night stand. In another few minutes they’d be in Mom’s room. After they were done, he’d get in his truck, leave, and never come back.

Duke whined, like he’d been able to hear her thoughts. “Don’t worry, boy. I’d never leave you with her. You’re going to come with me.”

She planned on getting out of this house as soon as possible. She’d been working hard—getting good grades and picking up double shifts whenever she could. Saving her money wasn’t easy—especially while trying to keep up appearances for school—but she was slowly making progress, and hopefully with a scholarship, it’d be enough. After graduation, she and Courtney were going to move to Minneapolis, and Jace was hoping to play baseball for the University of Minnesota. They’d all leave this place behind. She couldn’t wait for that day, when she’d be able to start her real life.

If only it wasn’t two years away.

…

Pain shot across her head as she sat up in bed. The images from her nightmare were etched in her mind, sending a sick feeling through the pit of her stomach.

Liv lifted a hand to her cheek, feeling the ghost of the slap burned into her skin. Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away.
It was just a dream. An awful, horrible dream.

She got ready quickly, the pain in her head making it hard to focus on anything but that, then grabbed her backpack and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Mom stood in front of the stove, making scrambled eggs. Liv walked up behind her and threw her arms around her. After the dream she’d had, dealing with an overprotective mom who occasionally corrected her grammar didn’t seem so bad. She still wanted to cry every time she thought about that slap.

Mom set down her spatula and twisted to face her. “What was that for?”

“I’m just glad I have you for a mom.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “So you think I’m doing okay?”

“More than okay.”

Mom put her hand over her heart. “That’s so good to hear. I do try, but some days I feel as if I get everything wrong.” She tucked Liv’s hair behind her ear. “I’m lucky to have you. It’s easy to be a decent mother when you’re blessed with such a lovely daughter.”

“I know I forget to say it, but I appreciate all you do for me.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” Mom moved the skillet off the burner. She wiped her hand on the dish towel hanging from the stove, then pointed to a file on the counter. “I jotted down some information for you, for that paper you have to write. All the general facts about when and where you were born and other things I thought you might want to know. Such as how your middle name is Francesca because mine is, as was my mother’s.”

“I didn’t know that. That’s kind of cool. What else?”

Mom pulled three plates out of the cupboard. “Well, it was raining cats and dogs the night you were born.” She dished out the eggs. “As for traditions, I suppose ours aren’t that exciting. Since your father and I always had hectic work schedules, we mostly went to dinners at nice restaurants for birthdays. Christmas morning after all the presents are opened, we have a big brunch.”

The timer on the oven beeped. Mom grabbed two potholders and pulled out a tin, filling the kitchen with the scent of blueberry muffins. She closed the oven door with her hip. “Anyway, it’s all organized in that folder. Sorry it took so long. I’m finally getting adjusted to life here. It’s nice to live at a more leisurely pace, and I’m quite enjoying my cooking class.”

Sometimes she worried Mom was unhappy here. She spent most of her time at home buried in medical books, and she’d occasionally say something about her job at the hospital with such longing behind her words. “You don’t miss your old job too much?”

Mom pursed her lips together, tipped her head one way, then the other, like she was mentally weighing her answer. “Once in a while I do. It was what I dedicated my life to for so long. But I was always working nonstop, and having a break has allowed me to get into things I never had time for as a surgeon. And I can always watch old surgeries when I start to miss it.”

Liv held up her hand. “Don’t remind me.”

Mom laughed. “Okay, I’ll save the medical talk for your father. Can you go tell him breakfast is ready?”

“Sure.” As Liv walked into the living room, her gaze landed on the coffee table.

She closed her eyes, seeing all the empty beer bottles from her awful dream. Suddenly she saw a man there, too, sitting on the ratty brown couch behind the messy table, pulling on his boots.

The grin he gave her sent chills down her spine.

“Guess good looks run in the family,” he said.

A growl came from next to her, and the golden retriever stepped between her and the man.

Liv’s thighs hit the lamp table as she backed away. “You should go. Now.”

“Relax, sugar. I’s just paying you a compliment.” He stood, tipped his head at her, then opened the door.

Liv could smell the morning air, feel the breeze on her skin.

“Livie, are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, the trashed living room, dog, and creepy man fading away. The cold filling her body didn’t. Images from her dream flashed through her head: the red truck; the man on the couch; the slap; the comfort she’d taken from the dog afterward. She thought of the dog she’d met on the trail. The calm she’d felt when she ran her hands over his coat, the exact same calm she’d felt in her dream.

You know there’s something more to the dreams. The hallucinations.
A knot formed in her stomach, and her lungs stopped working the way they were supposed to
. No I don’t
, she tried to tell herself, now on the verge of tears.

For a long time, she’d wished they’d stayed in Minnesota, thinking it could’ve somehow unlocked her memories. But right now she felt strangely happy they’d left, the echo of the blond cheerleader’s desire to get away going through her.

“Livie?” Dad stood in the open doorway, paper tucked under his arm, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice came out raspy and choked with tears. Because the answer was everything. Everything was wrong.

…

“You look like you’re deep in thought this morning,” Spencer said, stepping up to Liv as she walked down the halls of the school.

“That’s me. Always deep in thought.” She’d tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t come out right, and from the look on Spencer’s face, he’d noticed.

He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. “What’s going on?”

She was going to say “nothing,” but she needed someone to talk to, and Spencer was the only one who knew about her accident. “Every time I make progress with my parents, something happens that makes me wonder if they’re being completely honest with me.”

“That’s parents for you. You’re required to tell the truth all the time, but them,” he said, the muscles along his jaw tightening, “they can do whatever they want and you’re just supposed to accept it.”

She remembered how uncomfortable their encounter with Spencer’s dad had been. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject. Last night I got the vibe that you and your dad don’t exactly get along.”

“Yeah, well, he left my mom to be with that woman. Now he’s only a dad when he wants to be. He acted all hurt we didn’t stay at the bowling alley, but it’s not like he’s made an effort to spend time with Katie or me.”

“I’m sure he misses you guys, though.”

“I don’t know. Maybe in time we’ll…” Spencer scuffed the tile with his shoe, then looked back up at her. “So what makes you think your parents are lying to you?”

Was she really going to do this? Admit out loud—especially to Spencer—some of the disturbing thoughts she’d been having lately? She bit her lip. “Any time I ask them about Minnesota or the wreck, it’s like this barrier goes up. I just know that they’re not telling me everything. And doubting them makes me feel like a bad person, because I know they love me and I know they sacrificed so much for my recovery, but they left jobs at one of the best hospitals in the nation to come
here.
Really?

“No offense,” Liv added as an afterthought when she realized she’d sort of slammed Spencer’s town.

“Hey, it wouldn’t be my first choice, either.” Spencer shrugged one shoulder. “We do get all these old people who don’t want to deal with snow. But I guess that’s probably not something your parents would keep a secret.”

Frustration rose up in her at the thought of all she couldn’t tell him. Voices. Hallucinations. Memories that obviously weren’t hers. “They’re constantly whispering behind closed doors, shutting me down if I dare to ask about anything in Minnesota. Then they give me these strange looks that make me feel… I don’t know. Like they expect me to fall apart at any moment. And it’s not like they planned to move here and took months to do it. It was like the second I was out of the coma, we were driving across the country, scrambling to get here as soon as possible.”

Spencer’s posture tensed.

She stared at him, wondering if he’d somehow figured it out already. “What?”

“Thinking of you in a coma. It’s…” His eyebrows drew together and he shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s not my favorite thing, either.” It also made her feel like she needed to experience as much of life as she could, here and now. With Spencer. She’d come too far with him, and now she was worried she was ruining things with talk about her screwy life. “We should figure out what we’re crossing off the list today.”
Please tell me you still want to do something with me today.

Spencer rested a hip on the wall next to her. “I wasn’t saying we couldn’t talk about the coma thing.”

“I know. But I need a break from thinking about it, or I’ll go crazy.”
At this point,
crazier
is probably the better word.
“How about we do something low-key? I know this is going to make me sound like a wimp, but my arm’s kind of sore from bowling.”

“You’re right,” Spencer said, shooting her a devilish grin. “That
does
make you sound like a wimp.”

Liv smacked his chest, glad they were joking back and forth again so quickly.

He rubbed the spot she’d hit. “Apparently your arm’s not too sore to abuse me.” His eyes met hers, and even though she was getting more and more comfortable around him, it still sent a thrill through her stomach. “Hmm. What to do with you?”

I definitely have a few ideas. And most of them involve your lips pressed against mine.
Heat crept up her neck as she thought about kissing him. And before she realized what she was doing, she’d put her hand on his arm, just above his elbow, and leaned in, pressing herself against him.

His eyebrows shot up and his posture tensed. “Um…”