Tight Knit (17 page)

Please keep this in mind when Lachlan is being...difficult. 
The words of his addictions councillor bounce through my head. This is what she meant. It has to be. 

I wrap my arms around my waist and continue to take in Lachlan being
difficult
. I know he cares for me, but I can’t do this–no matter how I feel when he is close.

Lachlan doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop when the cops show up. I’m still sinking into the pavement. I can’t move as the cop elbows Lachlan in the face and he goes down. I can’t breathe as two cops kneel on Lachlan’s back while a third cuffs him. I can’t watch when they drag him painfully to the car and toss him, kicking and swearing inside. 

“Talia!” Lachlan’s voice pierces the air. Through streaming tears his figure is blurry but I can tell he’s still struggling against the cops. 

“Talia, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” 

I raise my hand to my mouth to stifle a sob.

“I should’ve told you everything. I’m so sorry.” 

The cops finally got him in the car and slam the door, but he’s still yelling. 

My feet are rooted and my head shakes back and forth as sobs wrack my body. I have no idea how I’m still on my feet. I have no idea why the panic hasn’t consumed me. 

Deacon is standing next to me. There are lights flashing everywhere. The ambulance sirens are going off as they haul Janna to the hospital. We stand and watch silently. 

Deacon wipes blood from his face and looks over at me, but I don’t meet his gaze.

“Stay away from him, Tali.” He smiles. This is not the time to smile.

“He’s a drug peddling asshole. Don’t think he won’t hit you next.” 

 
Says the guy who just ran away from his overdosing girlfriend.
He probably gave her the drugs too. Slowly I turn to him.

I slap the smile right off his face. “Fuck you, Deacon.”  

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Lachlan

White hot heat rips through my hand and I double over in my seat. The cop won’t take the cuffs off until the Doctor sees me. 

I’m a flight risk apparently. 

I breathe through my teeth until the searing pain becomes a dull throb. It’s definitely broken. One more deep breath to inhale more of the disgusting sanitized death smell and I lean back. I hate hospitals. I wonder how Talia could stand spending so much time here. 

“You okay, kid,” the cop asks. I glare at him. My forehead wrinkling making the dried blood pull at my skin. 

“Lachlan McCreedy,” the nurse yells from the front. I stand and a wave of nausea passes through me from the pain. The cop grabs my upper arm, and I’m glad because I feel like I’m going to pass out. 

I clutch my wrist band in my good hand, and rub the leather with my thumb. I had to take it off because of the swelling. 

I’m only half paying attention as the cop leads me through the big glass sliding doors. 

She’s standing on the other side. There is blood on her face, just along her jaw line and I feel like I’ve succeeded. It’s a horrifying, stomach clenching feeling. 

The sheltered innocence is gone. Her features are hard, her blue eyes no longer the color of ocean waves but stormy black. I’ve succeeded in dragging her into my world. 

Her eyes never leave mine as the cop walks me down the hall to x-ray. I watch her until my head is turned as far as it will go. The cop shakes my arm and I grit my teeth, clutching the wristband even tighter. 

Forgiveness. 

I open my fingers and the band falls silently to the floor. I see her one more time as I’m hauled around the corner. She’s staring at the band. Tears sliding down her cheeks. 

I did this to her. With everything that has happened to me, everything I’ve done,
this
is the moment. The moment I truly want forgiveness. I just waited until it was too late.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Talia

I had to know if he was okay. If Janna was okay even though I knew they’d never let me see her because I’m not family. Now that I’ve turned Lachlan’s wrist band over in my hands a thousand times, I wonder if I’m okay. 

My head falls back against the soft headrest of Georgina’s car. I’m glad Lachlan left the keys in it but it smells like him and it’s bothering me. My head falls to the side and I try to imagine what’s going on in there. By the swelling of his wrist, I’m sure Lachlan broke something. Part of me hopes it hurts as much as I do. 

I’ve never known anyone who did drugs so I can’t imagine Janna, and what they are doing to help her. Pumping her stomach? But cocaine is snorted so it couldn’t be in her stomach? I have no idea. 

I sigh. Lachlan’s right. I do live under a rock. Right now I want to crawl back under it and never come out. 

~

My dad’s home when I get back from the hospital. He’s not supposed to be home until next week. 

His black four door is in the driveway. His shoes are at the front door beside a suitcase. My heart jumps. Why is there a suitcase beside his shoes? 

I can’t handle one more thing
. Not tonight.

Slowly I peek around the wall that divides the entrance from the living room. My parents are sitting on the couch, looking at each other. My mom’s eyes are red and swollen. She’s cross-legged in those ridiculously expensive sweat pants that make you look like you work out. Her light hair is pulled off her face into a ponytail. I don’t remember the last time she wore a ponytail. My heart is thundering so loud I am sure they can hear me. 

Is he leaving? Is my dad leaving?

My mom notices me and she sits up straighter.

“Talia, honey, come in here for a sec.” She smiles and holds her hand out to me. 

Something feels weird. My dad is straight-faced and pale. He nods to me to sit between them. I haven’t sat between them like this since they told me Pops had died when I was six. I barely remember what it’s like. 

I sit and lean back into the couch cushion so I can see both of them. I’m shaking with nerves.
Just say it already,
I want to scream.

“Talia,” my father says, with his deep voice which means it’s serious. “Talia, your mother and I have something to tell you.” He pauses and turns to Mom. Is he blushing? He fidgets in his seat and nods to her.

“You’re breaking up, aren’t you?” I try to stand. Mom grabs me and yanks me back down.

“Don’t be ridiculous, honey. Your father and I are NOT getting a divorce. Breaking up! Good lord, we’re not in high school.” 

She laughs, and now I am totally confused. 

“Then what’s with the oozing solemn vibe?” I ask. “And why is dad blushing?” 

This makes dad blush even more and he clears his throat. 

“Your father and I have been having some troubles, yes. But darling, when you love someone you just make it work. Sometime the fire dims but it doesn’t go out. Not if you don’t let it.” 

Mom glances at dad and he smiles in agreement. 

“But that’s not what we need to talk about.” She waves her hand. 

 “Trouble?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know with all this talk of flames. I am an only child and I’m convinced I was conceived on the honeymoon and they’ve never seen each other naked since.

I must be wrinkling my nose because mom pushes it with her finger. She laughs again. It’s a different laugh than usual, a real one. 

“You used to make that face when I fed you anything with cabbage in it.” 

My dad laughs too and squeezes my knee. “She still does.” 

They lock eyes and I am suddenly super uncomfortable. I’ve intruded into a private space that is just theirs, but I can’t help but watch them. They really do love each other. It’s obvious now that I look at them, like,
really
look at them.

“So, you guys are okay then?” I drag the words out. I’m still confused about the suitcase and the ‘talk’. “We’re still okay?”

“We will be, honey,” Mom says and pats my leg. 

Will be means they aren’t right now? Dad must have sensed my confusion because he pulls me into him and kisses the top of my head. 

“Life gets in the way sometimes, sweetie. We were so busy providing for our family that we forgot to actually be one.” 

I lean against my dad’s chest. It’s been a long time. I realize how much I missed him. 

“I miss you,” I blurt. I don’t mean to say it out loud. My dad squeezes me tighter.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” 

I lean back. No more sorrys. No more crying over my problems and expecting them to go away.

“You’re never here. You’re never around. How are we supposed to be a family when we all just do our own thing?” 

“I know darling,” Mom says. “That’s what we’re going to work on.” 

“How? Dad is always gone because of his job. I liked the way it was before better. When he worked here. Not for some stupid corporation. So what if he makes more money?”

“I’m working on that.” Dad squeezes my shoulder.

“But first we have to fix ourselves,” Mom says. “We’re going to have to because our trio is no longer.” 

I can’t look at her fast enough. “What?”

She can’t be.

“I’m pregnant, sweetie. You’re going to have a baby brother.” 

My eyes would fall out of my head if I opened them any wider. This has to be the most bizarre and emotionally draining weekend of my life.

“But, how, when… I…” I stutter and my dad squeezes me again.

“We’re not as old as you think we are,” he says and chuckles. I think about my parents having sex. It’s gross. I mean obviously I get it, but I can’t help but be grossed out. They’re my
parents
.

“When?” I finally ask.

“June.” Mom rubs her belly. Suddenly it makes sense. Her being so emotional. Crying all the time. Confronting me about how we aren’t the perfect Mother/Daughter team at the debutant ball.

“Um, congratulations,” I say awkwardly. “So what’s with the suitcase then?”

“Your father and I need a little alone time. To figure this out. It’s just as surprising for us. We’re heading out for a week to a little B&B just outside of town. It’s going to be so romantic. There is a sauna and hot tub and private jacuzzi.” 

“Stop, Mom.” I cover my ears. “Seriously.” 

They are both laughing at me, and I manage to smile.  

“Fine, lips sealed,” Mom says. “And you’re almost seventeen now so we trust we can leave you alone for a whole week, and you won’t get into any trouble with that trouble-maker boyfriend of yours.” She smiles like she joking, but her eyes say she’s serious. I drop my gaze to my lap, my own smile fading. 

“Lachlan and I aren’t together. So no need to worry about trouble. I’ll probably just have a TV marathon and knit. I have a million hats to knit in a month.” 

Mom grabs my shoulders and pulls me to her so hard it knocks the wind out of me. 

“Oh, sweetie, honey. I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?” She’s stroking my hair and face and shoulders. My face is squished against hers so tight I couldn’t talk if I wanted to.

Is it going to be like this until June?

I’m not sure when my life became so complicated. 

“I’m fine, Mom. When do you leave?” I try to change the subject and pry myself out of her grip.

“Tomorrow morning,” Dad says.

I know that a baby in the house will affect me big time. But maybe this is what we need to bring us back together? I also know that I’m exhausted, which is a good thing. If I have to think for one more second my brain is going to revolt completely and refuse to ever function again. 

~

It snows for the first time on Monday. Like, really snows. By noon there’s a thick layer of the cold sticky flakes blanketing the ground. I run outside between classes, to my parent’s car, to grab my dreaded math book. By the time I come back in there are snowflakes stuck in my hair and eyelashes. There’s a blast of hot air when I open the school door and my nose is filled with radiator dust and a slight wet dog smell. It makes me wish for the wool shop. Or the smell of Lachlan, spice and laundry.

I turn the corner and lose all the warmth the entrance heater provided. Deacon’s leaning against my locker. His jeans are perfectly straight and pressed. His button up plaid shirt ironed and untucked. His sandy hair hangs in his eyes like he purposely does it that way. He looks like Deacon, perfectly put together. Everything but his face. Lachlan left his mark.

Deacon’s eye is bruised green and black, his lip scabbed. 

I stop a couple feet from him, and he lifts his head. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

I frown.

“I’m fine. Why?” 

He smiles his winning smile and I want to slap him again. He knows something.

I step up to my locker and ignore him but he doesn’t leave.

“Lachlan isn’t here today.” 

My frown deepens into a glare.

“What’s your point, Deacon?” 

“Cops called me last night. Said they want me to come in and make a statement. I thought they’d have called you, too.” 

My heart starts hammering. 

“No, they haven’t,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. 

“That guy’s no good, Talia, and you know it. I’m sure it was fun to slum for a while, but seriously.” 

A gagging sound crossed with a scoff comes out of mouth. I can’t speak because my chest has started expanding and contracting too fast. Deacon no longer matters. I think of Lachlan, and clutch his band that I now wear on my own wrist. I try to hum our song in my head and it works. I throw off the blanket of panic. Alone. By myself. 

Leaning back onto the lockers, I savor the moment. 

I can see Deacon gawking, I know what he just told me is big. That Lachlan is in a lot of trouble. But just for two seconds I want to revel in my success. I beat it. 

I over came it. 

All alone. 

I laugh and hug my text book tighter to my chest.

Beautiful irony.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Lachlan

I shift my weight trying to get into a position that doesn’t hurt my arm. I lay on my back resting my hand on my stomach. I’m still not comfortable, but I don’t think the discomfort is on the outside. I can handle physical pain. What I can’t deal with is this gnawing guilt that I really screwed it all up. I knew I would, but this time I wanted it to be different. This time I wanted to do the right thing. Problem is I can never make a decision until it’s too late. I want to tell her everything, when she’s no longer willing to hear it.