Dear Emily (Forever Family) (10 page)

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Past

Age 19

Last night
was horrendous. I royally fucked things up. I mean, who storms out of a bar without an explanation? Alex must think I’m crazy.

I
know
I’m crazy.

Kirsten is moving boxes of books from the stock room to the front.

“Tabby, we need to get these books inventoried and onto the shelves sometime today. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour or two,” she says as she drops the third box of books onto the floor.

“No problem. Are you here much longer?” I ask.

“No, I have a dinner date with my parents. They are in town for a few days and demanded some quality time with yours truly.” She smiles and hands me the keys to the store. “You don’t mind locking up, do you?”

“Not at all,” I answer.

“Great! See you on Friday!” With that, she turns and leaves the store.

“Great,” I say sarcastically as the door closes behind her.

It’s another perfectly quiet day in the bookstore. We typically only see a handful of customers in a given day, but today is especially tranquil. I’ll be able to tackle the new books and maybe I’ll have time to sit back, relax, and read a bit.

I spend the next hour arranging the new books that Kirsten dropped on the floor. I’m holding the last book up to my nose and inhaling the scent that I love as the door opens and chimes.

I place the book on the shelf and turn toward the door.

“Alex,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he replies. He softly smiles as he walks toward the lounge. “I’m glad you’re here today.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Well, yeah, Tabby. You ran out of the bar last night totally spooked, and I need to explain myself. And to find out if you are OK.”

“I’m fine, Alex. Really.” I lie.

“Tabitha, if you were ‘fine’ you wouldn’t have run out of the High Note as if you saw a ghost when I grabbed your wrist. I’m sorry. I clearly did something to upset you, and I’m just so sorry.” His eyes move to the scar on my cheek. He stiffens and looks away. I can see his jaw clenching and his cheeks pulsing.

I’m silent for a few minutes and walk toward the lounge where he’s standing.

“Alex, I don’t know why you’re here or why you invited me out the other night, but I am in no state or frame of mind to move forward with this. Whatever ‘this’ is.”

I move my hand gesturing between us. I look into his eyes so that he understands I’m serious. I can’t do this.

He shrugs his shoulders and says, “I don’t know what you’re looking for Tabby, but I’m just hoping to have coffee with you.” He smirks as he sits down on the leather couch and crosses his leg over his knee. “I could use a friend right now, and I have a feeling you could too.”

Wow. He is right. I don’t think I’ve ever needed a friend more than I do right now. I have no one. I’m alone. Alone in the present and alone with my past.

Alone with my demons.

I lower my eyes and look at the floor. My cheeks start to flush, and I frown. I
really
want to be more than friends, but I know I can’t handle it. I can’t give myself to another person so freely. Tony ruined me. My pain is too fresh. I don’t have the ability to trust anyone. But can I trust Alex?

“OK,” I say softly. “Friends.” I want to say ‘for now’ so I can leave the door open for more, but I can’t.

He snaps his fingers and then slaps his hands together. “Great! You, Tabitha Tabby Fletcher, have yourself a new
friend
.” He smiles and my ears start to tingle. God, I’m blushing again! Yeah, this friend thing isn’t going to work out.

He jumps up, and I flinch a little. I can’t help my response to sudden movement, and I’m not sure if I ever will.

He strides over to the door and starts to walk out.

“Wait, where are you going?” I’m surprised he’s about to bolt out of here.

He leans out the door, grabs a cardboard cup holder with two large iced coffees from the ground outside, smiles, and winks at me.

“I took a chance and thought you’d agree to an iced coffee with your new
friend
,” he says, pointing his thumbs back at himself, grinning ear-to-ear.

I melt. My chest starts to burn, and my heart is pounding. Friends. Shit.

He grabs one of the iced coffees and extends it toward me. I grab the cup and our fingers brush against each other mixing with the condensation from the cup. My fingers are damp, and he rubs his thumb along my knuckles as he hands the cup to me. Friends! Friends don’t do that!

I pull my hand away quickly. “Thanks, Alex.” I look into his eyes. There is heat between us and his black eyes turn liquid and soft.

We stare at each other for what seems like hours. I finally look away and step back to find a seat in the lounge area. I practically fall into the chair.

“So, tell me about your band,” I say, not making eye contact.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” I state simply. I smile at him and put the straw in my mouth. I bite down on the straw almost bending it. It’s a habit I have. I bite every straw immediately as if I’m marking it as my ‘property’. I look up at him and wait for his next words as I continue to chew on the end of my straw.

“Where do I start?” He takes a deep breath then takes a sip of his iced coffee. He pauses and starts, “Dax, our drummer, and I grew up together. He and I are practically brothers. His family took me in when things went bad with my Pops. Tristan, our bassist, is Dax’s cousin, and he was the only bassist we knew, so he just stuck around.” He chuckles a little and shakes his head. There is clearly an inside joke that I’m not in on.

“Then there’s Garrett. He plays lead guitar, and he’s just Garrett.” He smiles at me. “That’s our band ‘Epic Fail’. We’ve been together for almost five years. We don’t always get along, but we all actually ‘get’ each other.”

“Well, from what I heard the other night, you really make great music together,” I say softly. I’m sorry that I missed most of their set, and I want to hear more from them. From Alex.

“So, Tabby, what’s your story? Where did you come from?”

I am silent for a few moments. What do I tell him?

That I came from an ambulance bay at Temple University Hospital?

That I don’t know who my parents are?

That I’m a depressed, pathetic, damaged and distraught nineteen year old that has no hope?

Fuck. Me.

I stumble a little over my words. “I’m from Philadelphia. I was born here. My mother… Well, she left me at Temple University Hospital shortly after my birth. I think my birthday is Halloween; at least that’s what the doctors and nurses estimated when they took me in. I was named after a famous television witch who I know nothing about.” My eyes start to water, and a tear is threatening to spill out. I start blinking rapidly. Don’t cry dammit!

Alex is silent, and his face softens. He just stares at me.

I start shifting in my chair.

“Anyway, I was raised mostly by my foster mother, Trina, until I was seven. She died in an accident.” I pause. This is too hard to replay.

My tragic fucking life.

He puts his iced coffee down and shifts forward in his seat. ‘I’m sorry’ are the only words that leave his mouth.

“There isn’t really much else to tell, Alex. After Trina died, I was placed in several foster homes that just never ‘took’. I left my last foster home when I was seventeen and moved, well, ran away to Portland, Oregon. I got a job, met someone who wasn’t very nice to me, and now I’m here. End of story.” I stop and look away. I said too much. I can’t talk about Tony. Or Sara. I just can’t.

He takes a deep breath and looks at me. “I’m sorry Tabby. I’m just so sorry.”

“Did that ‘someone’ give you that scar?” he asks quietly and his gaze shifts to my cheek.

“Yes.” It is so hard to admit that I let someone do this to me. To mark me. To defile me. Tony made me ugly, inside and out.

He stares at me, and I feel the warmth from his eyes and, as uneasy as I am sharing private and intimate details, his eyes soothe me.

“I didn’t have the best parents either.” He pauses.

“My mother died when I was three, and I barely remember her. My Pops raised my sister and me on his own. He tried, but he was a mess. My sister left home as soon as she could afford it, and my Pops, well, he never understood it. He started to take it out on me.” He stops abruptly, and I’m certain he isn’t going to continue. Maybe he has his own scars. Marks.

After several moments of silence, he continues. “It wasn’t good with my Pops, and I got out of there too. Dax’s family took me in when I couldn’t take it anymore. They are my family, and it feels like they always have been. I really don’t have any ‘blood’ family left.”

I take in all that Alex has shared. He’s not
unlike
me at all. He has gone through pain and loss. He is damaged too.

“I’m sorry.” Tears form in my eyes because I truly feel his pain and his heartache. I know what it’s like to barely have a family. To have no one. I just want to wrap myself around him and for us to tell each other that all will be OK. To feel it and know it for sure.

I wish I could feel his warmth and comfort. I need that so badly. I thought I’d be afraid of intimacy considering what I’ve been through, but with Alex, it would be different. Tender. Gentle.

It wouldn’t be like it was with Tony.

We sit silently for a little while as we both take turns sipping our iced coffees.

“Tabby, I can’t begin to imagine the pain you hide behind or what caused it. But I can try to understand if you want to share more. I can be here for you.”

God if only he knew. He can’t possibly be ready to hear about my pain. I’m a damaged, beat-down shell of a girl. Of a woman. I’ve given up so much to have this freedom. I’ve given up my child. My soul. What would he think of me if he knew? He’d think I’m a coward. I just can’t open myself up like that. I thought I could, but I can’t.

“Thanks, Alex. I appreciate it.” I hesitate and decide that I’m not going to say any more. Scare him off. I don’t want to lose the only friend I’ve had in years.

So, I change the subject. “When is your next gig? I would like to come and see the whole show this time.” I smile slightly and try to make it seem genuine.

“Next Saturday. We are back at the High Note. You should come early; meet us for a bite to eat. Meet the guys. What do you say?”

I have a shift at the diner in the morning on Saturday, and I’m off from the bookstore.

“Sounds great.” I fumble for my phone and set up a reminder for my alarm to sound hours before I need to be there because I can’t be late again!

“Why don’t you meet us there at seven-thirty? We can have some dinner and chill out before our gig. We go on at nine PM.” He pauses, waiting for me to confirm.

“OK, Saturday it is!” I’m excited, and I feel like he might be too.

“Great Tabby! You won’t regret it. The guys, well, they can be intense, but I’m guessing you can handle that. They will like you, I’m sure.” He smiles and tilts his head. Some of his locks fall to the side of his eyebrow, and I just want to run my fingers through his hair. To let my hand linger and feel the pulse in his temple. To bury my head in his neck.

As I’m picturing my intimate contact with his hair and scalp, he gets up and starts walking toward the door. He turns to me before he leaves. “OK, see you Saturday, Tabs.” He winks and slowly walks out the door.

OK, Tabitha, focus! He is clearly affecting me in ways that scream ‘more than friend’. But, I need to take this one step at a time and learn how to be close to someone again.

Learn how to trust again.

Learn how to be me.

I don’t even know who I am.

New Brunswick, New Jersey

Past

Age 18

BEEP, BEEP,
BEEP!

Jesus Christ! I slam my hand on my night table trying to silence my alarm. This has become a ritual for me and the mornings have become harder and harder to face.

I turn off my alarm and squint at the time. Seven-thirty AM. OK, I have some time to get some shit done before the lab re-do with Kyle.

I slowly get out of bed and trip over a pile of laundry in front of my bed. What the hell?

I had piled these clothes by my closet. Ginger! She must have been here at some point and moved them. Bitch.

I pick up my clothes and throw them into my empty laundry basket by the door. I commence my morning ritual, washing my face and brushing my teeth. I tie my long messy hair into a ponytail and step into my flip-flops.

“I will be productive today,” I say to myself in the mirror.

I swipe some change from my dresser, grab my clothesbasket, and head down to the ninth floor to the laundry room. I’ve got my MP3 player blasting in my ears, and I’m skipping down the stairs. Blink-182 is piping through my head and “What’s My Age Again” is giving me an extra boost. Just what I need for the long day ahead of me.

I hop into the laundry room and place my basket on top of an empty washer. Yes! It’s free! As I’m sorting my laundry and singing along to Blink, I hear the door slam shut behind me. I speak over my shoulder without turning around. “Sorry, the last washer is claimed.” I’m smirking at my small victory.

I hear a huff and something crash to the floor. I rip my earbuds from my ears and spin around, my defenses high.

“Kyle!” Shit, he scared the crap out of me! “Was that necessary?” I chastise him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles after dropping his own clothesbasket. “I just thought I’d get to a machine since it’s early, and it’s the only time today I can get a load done. And well, now I don’t have an opportunity since you have that machine.” He points to the one that I’ve claimed. Yes, it’s
mine
!

“Well, clearly, I was here first.” I’m cocky now and giving him attitude over a washing machine. Geez, I need to chill out.

He sulks and bends to pick up his basket. “I guess I’ll go down to the fifth floor.”

Man that sucks. Everybody knows that the fifth floor washing machines steal your quarters, so no one ever uses them anymore. He’ll have to go down several more floors just to get his laundry done. Suddenly, I feel pity for him. I mean, who wouldn’t? I absolutely hate having to travel more than one floor to do my laundry.

“Alright, I have a compromise.” I smile slyly.

“What?” He’s curious now, raises his eyebrows, and scrunches his chin. Oh my God, that dimple! Now I feel flush and my belly clenches.

“Well, I was going to do my whites first, so if you have any that you’d like to throw in with mine, I can share.”

He looks at me cautiously. I haven’t given him my ultimatum yet, and he looks skeptical. “OK, so what’s in it for you?” He asks.

“Well, we are supposed to make up two of my Bio labs today at lunch time. Can we postpone until later in the week?” I take a quick breath and don’t pause too long because I don’t want him to interrupt. “I mean, I know they are due tomorrow, but I could really use some time today to catch up on other things and I have a date night with my friends.” Shit, now I just sound like a selfish ass.

“Really, Carly. You are going to
allow
me to wash my underwear with yours so I can turn the other way and lie to Professor Martin
again
so you can get some beauty rest and drink wine with your friends tonight?” Fuck, he is pissed. Really pissed.

“But, I…”

“No, save it, please.” He starts to pick up his basket to leave. “I’m done covering and lying for you, Carly. Get your shit together on your own. And stop being so damn selfish!” He starts to raise his voice. “I’ve been doing what I can to help you catch up because you had the ‘chicken pox’,” he uses finger quotes again, “and now you are just completely taking advantage! Is this how you plan to get through college? Using people? Lying? Jesus, what the fuck was I thinking?”

Shitty. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Kyle…” I have no words. He is so right. I’ve been using him. Using him as a shield to avoid my scholastic responsibilities. Using him as a crutch. Fuck.

“Wait!” I yell as he is turning to leave. “Please, Kyle, I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to get my shit together.”

I walk toward him and take the basket from his hands. He doesn’t fight me and allows me to take it. I put it down next to mine and start to toss his whites and lights into the washing machine with mine.

I want to explain to him why I’ve been so delinquent, but I can’t tell him everything.

“Listen. I’ve had some things happen recently that caused me to put school and classes on the back burner. You are absolutely right; I need to get focused again. It starts with Biology. Today.” I smile hoping he warms up to my slight admission of guilt and ownership.

“Carly, what do you want from me?” He’s clearly not fully invested in my plea.

I drop the quarters into the slots, start the washing machine, and turn to face him again.

“What I want is your help with my Bio labs like you promised. I will do this load of laundry, washed, dried, and folded. I don’t iron. That’s my deal. Do you accept?” I’m smiling big now. He can’t turn me down; I’m turning on my charm!

His eyes brighten a bit as he smiles. GAH! His smile!

“OK Carly, deal. But you have to meet me at noon; we have two labs to complete. And you are doing
all
of my laundry!” He’s chuckling now.

“Fine. Deal.” I shove my hand out to shake on it. He grabs my hand and wraps his fingers firmly around mine. I feel our connection as my entire right arm is now tingling, and my cheeks are burning. Please don’t let go.

He looks into my eyes, and his smile gets bigger. “Great. My room is 909. When this load is done, swing by and get the rest. Oh, and it may take you a couple of trips.” He laughs out loud and turning to leave the room, calls over his shoulder. “I haven’t done laundry in two weeks, so you may be here a while.”

Fuck. Me.

“See you soon!” He saunters out of the laundry room and heads down the hall.

I flop into the chair across from the washing machine and turn up my MP3 player to “Dammit”, the next Blink-182 song on my playlist.

Yeah seems about right.

~

Several hours and loads of laundry later, I’m finished! I lug the over-flowing basket of Kyle’s clean laundry to his room. His door is slightly open so I gracefully kick it open and throw both his laundry and myself inside the room.

He’s sitting on his bed with a girl next to him. An extremely gorgeous girl leans into his side. Fuck! I clearly just interrupted something. My heart drops in my chest and I feel tears stinging my eyes. He has someone. Oh no.

‘Oh’ is about all I can get out. “I was just bringing the rest of your laundry, Kyle.” I drop the basket in the open doorway and leave. Crap, I can’t get out of here fast enough!

“Wait! Carly!” He’s calling after me. He’s now in the hallway behind me and seems apologetic. “I’ll see you at noon, right?”

“Yes, see you at noon.”

I turn to the stairs that lead to my floor.

OK, we’re just friends.

Friends that do laundry together.

Nothing more.

Fuck.