TYLER (Blake Security Book 2) (3 page)

ARIANA

              I had been a cheerleader for three years at that point. I’d watched Brandon and Tyler play football together since middle school. I knew a lot about the game, and I knew that Tyler had not had a good one that night. The coach pulled him out twice because his hits were direct and overly aggressive. In most cases tonight they were even unnecessary. I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on and worry about him. I waited by his car like I told him I would earlier, and when I saw his handsome face, I could tell that whatever was bothering him during the game was still weighing heavily on his mind.

              “Hey, good game,” I lied.

              “Yeah, thanks.” His voice sounded distracted even as he said, “Where do you want to go?”

              “I don’t care. What do you feel like?”

He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for me and then he said, “It doesn’t matter.” He climbed in behind the wheel of the Challenger, and for a few seconds, he just sat there with his hands on the wheel, staring through the windshield.

              “Tyler, is everything okay?”

              He looked at me with those pretty hazel eyes, and for a second, he looked like he was going to say something important. Instead he said, “Is Rico’s Pizza okay?”

              I hadn’t missed that he didn’t answer my question, but I let it go for the time being and said, “Rico’s is great.” He started the car, and we drove in silence to the pizza parlor. The parking lot was packed, and it took a few minutes for him to find a spot.

              “It might take a while; it looks crowded. Is that okay?” I couldn’t stand how sad he looked or sounded. Brandon said something more than once about Tyler’s dad being abusive. I wondered if his dad hurt him and I was surprised at how the idea of that filled me with rage. I cautiously reached over and put my hand on his arm. He jumped like I’d burned him.

              “Tyler, please tell me what’s wrong. Is it me?” I started to move my hand, and he covered it with his own.

              “No, it’s not you. I’m so sorry! Jesus, this is our first date and I’m screwing it all to hell.”

              “No, you’re not, but I can tell that something is wrong. If it’s me, you can tell me, and if it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me, but I want you to know I’m willing to listen if you need to talk.”

              I watched as he took a long, slow deep breath. “My mom is sick,” he said in barely above a whisper.

              I got a knot in my stomach. “She’s sick? Is it something bad?” Of course it was something bad. He wouldn’t be this upset and distracted over a cold or the flu.

              He nodded, and I thought he was going to leave it at that at first. It took him a really long time to answer, and when he finally did, I felt awful for him. “She has cancer, a brain tumor.”

              “Oh my gosh! Tyler, I’m so sorry.” He nodded again. He wasn’t looking at me still, so I took my hand and put it under his chin and turned his face towards mine. “I’m really sorry. If you need to go home…”

              “No, she doesn’t want me to do that. She made me promise to go about my life like things were normal. I’m just not sure how to do that because things are not normal.”

              “Of course not. It’s okay to let your feelings out.”

              “You’re so nice. I’ve messed this date up so bad.”

              “No, you have not. We’re friends, right? You can talk to me any time that you need to. We can go out on a date anytime. Why don’t we go somewhere and talk tonight?”

              “I don’t want to do that to you. Maybe I should just take you home.”

              “Do you want to take me home?”

              “No, but…”

              “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

              “No, I just…”

              “Someone you’d rather talk to?”

              He looked at me then with a look in his eyes that I hoped he would never lose. It was almost reverent. “There’s no one I’d rather talk to.”

              “Good,” I smiled. “Why don’t you take me by Crimson Lights and I’ll run in and grab us some sandwiches and we’ll go eat them at the park and talk.”

              “Are you sure?”

              “There is no one that I’d rather be with tonight, Tyler. I’d like to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

              “I’d like that, too,” he said. We went to the sandwich shop, and I left him in the car while I went in and ordered. It’s my family’s business, and I wasn’t quite ready to tell my parents we were seeing each other yet. I got us a couple of sandwiches, chips, and sodas, and we took them and went to the park. It was warm, but not as hot and humid as Louisiana can get. The season was getting ready to change, and there was a slight breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of flowers in bloom. Beams of moonlight shone down on us as we walked across the playground and found a bench to sit down on across the other side. Tyler was staring at his sandwich like he didn’t know what to do with it. My heart was breaking for him. I finally reached over and took it from his hands and replaced it with my hand. He squeezed it and said, “I think I’m just in shock, you know?”

              I nodded, knowing that I couldn’t possibly begin to imagine what he was feeling. I also knew that if it were me I would be in shock, too. “How is she doing with it?” I asked him.

              He smiled then. It was obvious how much he loved her. “She’s such a mom. She’s worried about my dad and me. She always comes last. She says she wants everything to go on normally as long as it can. She’ll do the treatments, but if the cancer keeps progressing she doesn’t want to go to the hospital. She wants to…” He swallowed hard and acted as if it took all his strength to say it, “She wants to die at home.”

              He should be crying, I thought. He was crushed and trying to keep it in. I had a feeling that crying would never happen unless he was alone. I knew that nothing I said was going to take away his pain and anger and frustration, so I just didn’t say anything. I opened my arms, and he moved into them, and then I wrapped him up in an embrace. I put my head against his chest and my arms around his warm, hard body. I melded my body into his, and for a second, the way he held me made me feel like he was the one protecting and comforting me. The world around me melted away, and we held onto each other. I wondered if it was bad that even though he was so upset, I never wanted the moment to end.

TYLER

              “Where’s Dad?” It was Sunday afternoon about a week and a half after Mom told us about her diagnosis. I’d gone out for a run in the morning, and when I got back, Mom was making breakfast and simultaneously cleaning the kitchen.

              “He had to go out. Do you want waffles and eggs?”

              “Mom, you don’t have to make me breakfast.”

              “I always make you breakfast on Sunday mornings.”

              I poured a glass of O.J. and leaned into the counter as I drank it. “I know, but…”

              She put down her spatula and wiped her hands on her apron. Turning towards me she said, “We weren’t going to change the way we do things around here, remember?”

              “I’m just worried about you wearing yourself out. Don’t you need rest, or something?”

              “We have a cook and housekeeper if I do. I’m only making breakfast, not running a marathon. I love making breakfast for my boys on Sunday morning.”

              I raised an eyebrow. “One of your ‘boys’ seems to be AWOL a lot lately.”

              With a sigh she said, “He’s having a hard time with this, Tyler. We just have to be patient and supportive.”

              My father had been drinking a lot more than usual over the past week, and that was saying a lot. I also noticed that he was barely around. Normally, that would have made me happy, but Mom needed him right now, and after all the crap she’d put up with over the years, she deserved some attention. Mom went to work every day, and if I was at football practice or a game or with Ariana, she was left alone until all hours of the night when I’d hear Dad come in and stagger up the stairs. She didn’t need to be alone all the time, and she sure as hell didn’t need to have to sleep with a drunk every night. “You’re the one we need to be supporting, Mom. He should be here for you.”

              She put her hand on the side of my face. “He’s here as much as he can be,” she said. I wondered what kind of love made you completely ignore someone else’s faults. Her love for my father was the definition of unconditional—and he didn’t deserve it.

              “He has barely been here all week. How can that be as much as he can manage?”

              “I mean emotionally, Tyler. He just needs some time to adjust. Now, do you want one waffle or two?” I didn’t want to argue with her, so I let it go. She obviously didn’t see what a loser he was, and after all of these years, I doubted I would be able to change her mind.

              “One.” I wasn’t hungry, but she wasn’t going to be happy unless I let her do something for me.

I sat down at the table, and as she made the waffle she asked me, “So how is Ariana?”

              I looked up at her, shocked. I hadn’t told her that Ariana and I had been spending time together. Since that Friday night “date” at the park almost two weeks ago, we’d spent as much time together as we could manage. We had been discreet about it at first, having lunch together at school and picnics in the park. I’d taken her to the county fair in Lake Charles on Saturday night, and we’d had a great time riding the rides and playing games. She’d taken home a small menagerie of stuffed animals. But, as far as I knew, Brandon was the only one in either family who knew about us.

Mom was smiling as I said, “She’s good, how did you…?”

              “I’m Mom. I know everything,” she said with a wink. 

              “Oh.”

              She brought my waffle over and slipped it onto my plate. She handed me the butter and syrup and sat down next to me. “She’s a very pretty girl.” I was spreading butter on my waffle. “How does Brandon feel about you two dating?”

              “He’s coming around,” I told her. Brandon had been supportive, but at the same time, I could tell that he was still working on adjusting to the changes in our relationships. “How do you feel about it?”

              “Does she make you happy?”

              “Yeah, I mean it’s only been a couple of weeks, but yeah. She makes me want to smile all the damn time.”

              Mom smiled broader and said, “Don’t cuss. But as far as being happy, keep doing that. From the first moment I held you in my arms, it’s all I ever wanted for you.”

              I swallowed a huge lump in his throat and said, “The way that you and Dad feel about the Douglases, I wasn’t sure…”

              “You know, after all of these years, I’ve never really figured out what it is any of us have against each other. Some people just rub you the wrong way for no particular reason, and I guess that’s what it is with them and us. But I’ve always liked Brandon, and he’s always been welcome here. I see Ariana at church every week, and she’s always sweet and polite. Now I hear that she makes my son happy. What more could I ask for?”

              “Thanks, Mom.”

              She laughed and stood up. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for being so strong and going on with your life the way I asked you to. It makes me happy. Finish your breakfast now and get ready for church.”

              “Is Dad going to church with us?”

              “I don’t think he’ll make it today. But maybe you and I can have lunch at Crimson Lights afterwards. Why don’t you ask Ariana to join us?”

              “Yeah, that sounds good.” I forced myself to take a bite of the waffle. I wasn’t sure Crimson Lights was the best choice since Ariana’s parents still didn’t know about us. I swallowed my waffle and said, “Mom…can I ask you a question?”

              “Anything,” she said.

              “I know you like to go to church and you believe in God, but I was just wondering, aren’t you angry with Him?”

She came back over to me and sat down again. Laying her hand on top of mine, she said softly, “For centuries, people have questioned why—if He’s so great and benevolent—why there is death and disease. The truth is until we get a chance to meet Him and ask him those questions, we’ll never know. My theory is that He’s doing his best. He’s got billions of people to look after. It can’t be easy. But I believe with all my heart that He loves us and that He’ll do whatever he can to guide us through this. His role is pretty close to what yours is. He’s there to listen to me when I need to talk and He’s there to lend a hand when I need it, but most of all He’s there to love me and between His love and the love I feel in this home from you and your Dad…I feel like I can do anything.”

“Then beat this.” I hadn’t meant to say that, it had just slipped out. I couldn’t help but be bothered by the fact that she just accepted the doctor’s prognosis and she didn’t talk about beating it. I was born with a competitive streak. I was a fighter by nature. I wanted her to fight.

“Some things, my competitive son, you just can’t beat. You have to just make adjustments and changes and keep moving forward the best you can, but you also have to accept that some things are stronger than we are. Please don’t take that as me giving up. I’m not doing that. I’ll do everything the doctor asks me to do, and I’ll keep my hope that those things will extend my life. But in the meantime, I have to make sure that my family is going to be okay when or if the worst happens. I want you and your father to have time to prepare for this so the shock of it doesn’t stop you in your tracks. Me accepting it is not me giving up, honey. Okay?”

I nodded. I had always adored my mother, but I’d never really thought of her as strong. As a boy I’d just assumed the strength was Dad’s role. I didn’t realize until I got much older that strength is not about hurting those you claim to love. What I was beginning to notice about Mom was that she was stronger than all of us put together. Sometimes I feared that the glue holding everything together was slowly unravelling. What if it all fell apart after she was gone? What would I do then?

********

I was in a great mood. It was Friday night and Ariana and I were going to New Orleans for dinner. I’d made reservations at a nice restaurant in the French Quarter called GW Fins. I think my dad actually owned the building, but he owned so many that I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like I ever tried to cash in on that anyways. Money and power never really appealed to me in a big way. I did buy a new shirt for the occasion, and I was just buttoning it up when I heard a big commotion in the hallway. As far as I knew Mom and Dad were still at work, and none of the staff were usually in the house past six. Curious but not alarmed yet, I opened my bedroom door and saw the large figure of my dad crumpled on the floor next to the master bedroom.

              “Dad? Are you okay?” I walked over to him, and as soon as I got a foot away, my nostrils were assaulted by the smell of booze. The strong odor of the stale whiskey made my stomach turn. “You’re drunk.” He should have been at work, or at least just getting home from work. In the past, he’d been a pretty functional alcoholic for the most part. Lately, not so much.

              Dad looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. The front of his shirt was stained. His clothes were all wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them, and he had a red mark along the side of his face that looked like it was going to turn into a bruise, probably from hitting the wall just then.

“Tyler…”

              The sound of my name on my father’s drunken lips pissed me off more for some reason. “What the hell are you doing? Mom will be home soon. You can’t let her see you like this!”

              Dad leaned forward, and I automatically flinched. I realized that he was trying to push himself up off the floor. With a disgusted sigh, I slid my arm underneath his and pulled the big man to his feet. I let go of him right away, and he teetered slightly and pressed his palm into the wall to steady himself. “You reek! Why weren’t you at work?” It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t seen him since maybe Wednesday. I’d just thought we were missing each other, but from the looks of it, he hadn’t showered or changed clothes in days.

              He looked at me again as if he was trying hard to focus on my face. “Watch the way you talk to me,” he said.

              I didn’t want to get into a fight with him before I took Ariana out. I took a deep breath and said, “You need to get in the shower before Mom gets home.” I tried to take his arm again, and he jerked it away from me and pushed open the bedroom door. I was grateful he hadn’t taken a swing. I think he was too drunk to connect anyways. I stood in the doorway and watched him stumble across the room toward the mini-bar. I couldn’t stop myself. “Are you kidding me? I hope you don’t think you’re going to have another drink.”

              He ignored me and pulled out a bottle of scotch. I completely lost it. All of the emotions I’d been holding back since the day Mom told me that she was dying pushed through all at once. It was ignited by my disgust for him, and I flew across the room in a rage and jerked the bottle out of his hands.

              “What the hell are you doing?” he bellowed.

              “Keeping my mother from having to come home and see the cowardly drunk she married.” He took a swing at me then, but his coordination was off from the alcohol and I easily dodged it. The intent had been real though, and it only fueled my anger. I did something I’d never done before and put my hands on him. I pushed him, and he stumbled back into the wall. Dad was looking at me with shock on his face. I didn’t stop there. For the first time, I also told him what he needed to do. “You’re a respected businessman although I personally don’t think you deserve any respect. But what the hell are your employees and your customers going to think if they see you somewhere like this? If you won’t clean-up for Mom, the person you should, at least think about the business you’ll lose when people in this town start figuring out you’re a drunk. You’ve managed to avoid them finding out that you beat your wife and kid all this time and now you’re going to ruin it. I wouldn’t care—except that my mother will be the one to deal with the fallout as usual. You make me sick.”

              I stepped close to him, and that time he didn’t make any move to strike me or fight me. I put my hand on his big arm and led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “I’m going to make you some strong, black coffee, and you’re going to drink it and sober up before my mother gets home.” I turned and left him standing there. I wasn’t sure if he even had time to clean up before Mom got home, but he was going to damned sure try.

              When the coffee was ready, I took a big cup of the black steaming liquid upstairs and I was surprised to see that Dad had actually showered. He had three days growth of beard still. “Sit down and drink this. We’re going to clean up your face. Where does Mom think you’ve been?”

              “I don’t know.”

              “You don’t know?” I was tempted to slap him in the back of the head the way he had me so many times before. I resisted. “She has to be freaking out.”

              “I called her…” He looked like he was about to fall asleep. I shoved the mug in his hand and wrapped his fingers around it.

              “Drink!” I ordered as I got the shaving stuff and started lathering up his face. I had never shaved anyone but myself, but I figured half-assing it would be better than nothing. As Dad sipped the coffee, I shaved the black-and-gray-peppered stubble off of his face. Dad sat still like a child…or a mental patient. Twenty minutes and only two nicks later, he looked human again, almost. I went to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I tossed them on the bed and said, “Get dressed. I’ll get you another cup of coffee.”