Guardian (5 page)

“Yes, we can take the elevator so you can push the buttons. I need a dictionary.” I had only just realized that in my panic, I’d set the other one down and hadn’t a clue where it was.

I took both their hands solidly in mine, even though they protested at being treated like babies. But I ignored it. It had been a good scare, one I was not about to repeat ever again in my lifetime. I was going to be a nervous wreck by the time I got over the bundle of nerves I’d acquired with Austin’s attack and following memory loss. We trotted quickly to the elevators, where I settled the button fight that was just as routine in our Saturday as studying; Colton was allowed to press the first one, while Grace got the one inside the elevator.

Standing there waiting for the elevator to come down to our floor, the hairs on the back of my neck slowly began to rise once more, only stiffer this time. Even the hairs on my arms stood to attention, my whole body covered with chilly goose bumps. I could
feel
a pair of eyes on me.

Slowly, I looked up, into the foggy reflection of the stainless steel elevator doors. There was a blurred shape in them, standing behind the three of us. The air in my lungs constricted as I picked out dark clothing, dark hair, and an undeniable masculinity in the overbearing height and broad shoulders.

I spun around with a gasp, but there was no one standing behind us. The large staircase blocked us from the view of anyone in the lobby, and there was no one nearby, nowhere for anyone to hide. I looked around franticly, and at the loud
ding
of the elevator, I jumped almost a foot into the air.

“Lyla?”

I looked down into Colton and Grace’s curious faces, pressing a hand over my furiously pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” Colton asked seriously. “You seem funny today.”

“I’m all right,” I assured him, looking behind us once more. “I just, I just thought that I saw someone. But it was nothing. Come on, we’re about to miss the elevator!”

I led the way into the small box, hitting the second floor button and furiously jabbing at the Close Door until the doors were firmly shut and we were alone, safe from whatever was out there.

“Lyla!” Grace shrieked. “I was supposed to press the button!”

“Oh!” I felt a tremor of guilt go through me. “I’m sorry, honey! You can press both of them on the way down, okay?”

While Colton fumed and Grace smiled at this deal, I tried to clear my head. I really was acting funny today. Maybe Austin’s attack had unsettled me more than I really believed it had. As we walked out onto the second floor, however, I tried to push away my unsettling thoughts. Because whatever –
who
ever – I had or hadn’t seen in the elevator doors hadn’t looked like danger. It actually looked a lot like…
Rafael
.

We walked through the door of the house just as the phone began to ring. Colton and Grace both raced for it, while I followed at a more sedate pace and set my book bag down on the kitchen table, where I would undoubtedly spend the rest of my evening studying.

“Hello?” Colton said breathlessly into the phone. He had beaten Grace to it. “Yeah, one minute.” He held the phone out to me. “It’s Natalie. She wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Bub,” I whispered, accepting the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh my gosh!” Natalie shrieked, and began talking at her usual speed: lightning fast. She didn’t even stop for breath. “So I was just talking to my mom and guess what? We can start talking about the missions trip tomorrow at youth group! She’s going to be on the committee again and said registration would start in two weeks!”

“Really?!” I asked, my voice as high pitched as Natalie’s. “That soon?”
“Well, it’s the first week of September! And keep it on the down low, but we’re going all the way to Alabama this year, too. You know, to help with the tornado relief and recovery and stuff.”

My excitement deflated faster than a balloon. “Nat,” I said slowly, collapsing backward onto the couch. “I don’t know if I can go.”

“
What
?” she screeched, and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “It’s the
Diocese
of Columbus Youth Missions Trip, Ly’s,” she told me, putting extra emphasis on the
diocese
. As if I didn’t know. “You can’t just not go!”

“I definitely can!” I protested. “Aside from the fact that I would need a full ride of financial aid, which would include money for a plane ride or bus ticket, what would I do with Colton and Grace?”
“Easy,” Natalie said promptly. “My mom already said she would watch them, like the last time.”

I inwardly cringed. It was one thing last year, when the missions trip had been an in-city project, cleaning all the churches by teaming up all the youth groups that could participate within the diocese, and also volunteering and forming food and clothing drives. I had simply left Colton and Grace with Natalie’s mom during the day and been able to take them home with me every night. But being hundreds of miles and hours upon hours away from them in Alabama was something totally different.

“Now, Lyla,” Natalie said in an aggravatingly patient tone. “Remember the talk we had the other week about pride? It’s okay to admit you need help and ask for it sometimes. My mom totally loves Colton and Grace.”

But how could you explain to someone that it wasn’t pride that kept you from asking for help, but the simple fact that if you let them help you, you began to trust them, depend on them, they would always let you down? I couldn’t let Colton and Grace form attachments to people that could possibly leave them. And there was the simple added fact that I was sure no one could look after them half as well as I did.

“I’ll tell you what,” Natalie said, again easily breaking my tense silence. “I’ll talk to Mom, and see if she can do about the financial aid. Then, if things start looking promising there, we’ll talk about what to do about Colton and Grace again. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, instantly feeling a little bit better. “Deal.”

“Fabulous. Okay, and then – what’s that noise on your end?”

“The garage door is opening,” I said nonchalantly, and then bolted up from the couch when I realized what I had said. “Colton!” I called. “Who’s home?”

He and Grace already had their noses glued to the window.

“Mom,” Colton said, and they both turned around, looking serious.

“Hey, Natalie, let me call you back later, okay?” I asked, getting into action.

“Sure, I’ll talk to you later, Lyla. Bye.”

“Bye,” I said, tossing the phone onto the couch and herding Colton and Grace toward the bedroom hallway. “Come on, guys. Why don’t you wait in the bedroom, and I’ll talk to Mom first.”

“But what if she’s happy today?” Grace asked plaintively. “I want to see her! I haven’t for a long time!”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying to ignore the way her big blue eyes were slightly glassy, as though she was getting ready to cry. I couldn’t take the chance of letting her see our mother. Most likely, she would be in a bad mood, and I couldn’t, absolutely could not, allow Grace to bear the brunt of it. When my parents actually did bother to spend some real time at home, they generally preferred that we were not around. I was positive tonight would be no exception.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t let you see her yet,” I told Grace, kneeling down to hug her.

Grace wouldn’t have any of it. “I-I-I want my M-mommy!” She began to sob and then threw herself on the bed in full tantrum mode. I looked helplessly to Colton, who immediately ran and jumped on the bed, crouching down beside Grace’s head.

“It’s okay, Gracie,” he said. “I haven’t seen Mom or Dad for a while too, but that doesn’t mean you have to cry about it! I’ll let you play with my toys if it will make you feel better!”

I eased out of the room, entering the kitchen just as my mother slammed the garage door shut. “Hi, Mom,” I said cautiously, but I could already see from the glint in her bright blue eyes that she wasn’t happy to see me.

“Who were you talking to on the phone all day?” she demanded, throwing her worn leather purse onto the dining table. “I tried to call twice on my way home, and the line was busy.”

“I was just talking to Natalie for a couple minutes,” I said, circling through the kitchen as she walked into the living room, keeping the same solid distance between us. “She called when we got back from the library.”

“I don’t care who you were talking to!” Mom suddenly shouted. “You should have answered! I wanted you to make me some dinner. I’m tired from working all day and I’m hungry!”

“Mom, I’ll make you some dinner,” I said smoothly, trying to calm her before she could work herself into a frenzy. But it was too late.

She had found the phone where I had left it on the couch, forgetting to put it away in my haste to get Grace and Colton out of sight. The moment she picked it up, I could see that she was beyond reason.

“Every time I walk into this house, something is lying out of place!” she began to rage. “Your father and I work all day to keep this roof over your head and food in your mouth and this is the thanks we get!”

I cringed and then ducked as the phone came flying at me. It hit the wall and broke into two pieces. When I straightened once more and opened my eyes, Mom stood in front of me, pressing me against the kitchen wall.

“It is absolutely
disgusting
how you think you can live here and get by with things like this,” she hissed at me. “I only hope Colton and Grace don’t follow your example. One disappointing kid is enough. I can’t believe your father hasn’t been able to change your ways by now. Maybe
I
can finally get you to shape up.”

She slapped me on the cheek, hard. I felt tears well in my eyes at the sharp sting, but bit my lips to keep from crying out. That was what she wanted. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Now, get your junk off my kitchen table, and get out of here,” she said, still quietly. She stepped away to allow me to leave. “You’re a disappointment, Lyla. I’m talking to your father about this when he gets home.”

I didn’t respond, only grabbed my backpack from the table and hurried into the bedroom. Colton and Grace both looked up from where they were playing with their stuffed animals on my bed. I couldn’t meet their eyes.

I felt a tear course down my cheek as I carefully turned my back on them and gently closed the door. I bolted all of the four locks I had installed over the years, and then, only when each one was tightly in place, just like my feelings, I turned to my siblings.

Grace held out a stuffed unicorn to me. “Want to play, Sissy?”

It was eleven o’clock and Colton and Grace were both sound asleep by the time my dad came home and he and my mother began their argument. It had begun just I had expected; my dad found the phone lying in two pieces on the kitchen floor, and lit into Mom for it. She protested, blaming me. Then, after she poured each of them a drink, the words flowed even more freely. I cringed when Dad threw a chair at the wall, complaining that my mother never did anything for him. I wanted to hide under the covers as Mom began to sob that Dad didn’t love her anymore. When he slapped her, I felt the pain of my own cheek sharp and fresh once more, and after he had finally shouted her into quiet, sobbing submission, I remained deadly silent as he came and rattled on our door.

It was three in the morning before the house was totally silent, and that was when I slipped onto my knees beside my bed, letting Colton and Grace’s smooth, steady breathing wash calm over me, the sweetest music to soothe the savaged breast. I bowed my head and clasped my hands together, finally alone, finally able to speak my mind.

Lord, I’m so scared.
I wanted to scream it out loud, but had to settle for just shouting inside my head. The tears I had held back all evening while putting on a brave face for my siblings came like a flood, streaming down my cheeks as I buried my face in our faded comforter.
I don’t know what to do. I need guidance. I know this isn’t truly my mom and dad. I remember when they were different. Why did they have to change? I just want to feel safe when I come home at the end of the day, not constantly on my guard.

I poured out my feelings to the only person I knew would listen. I told Him of my fear and panic when I had lost Colton and Grace at the library today, my secret wish to go all the way to Alabama with Natalie for the missions trip, how scared of my mom and dad I was, how I wanted things to be different.

I wished things could change. I wished Colton, Grace, and I didn’t have to lock the door before we went to sleep at night. I wished the days when my mom made
us
dinner and breakfast and sent us off to school weren’t so distantly in the past that even I could hardly remember them. I wished I had family, aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, that could help us. I wished I wasn’t the oldest, that this responsibility wasn’t mine.

But more than anything, I wished there were people I could trust. People who would be there when they said they would be, help us when they promised, and give
me
a shoulder to lean on, to cry on. And as I crawled into bed next to Grace, that was what I prayed for, though I never, ever would have admitted it.

The next day as I was walking into the house, flanked by Colton and Grace, the lights flickered and then went completely out. I stood in the entryway, closing my eyes and hoping this didn’t mean what I was sure it did. I tugged my siblings into the kitchen and sat them at the table with glasses of milk, then dug through the large pile of mail on the counter until I found what I was looking for; the unopened electric bill and the two letters saying it was overdue.