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This Is Forever Page 3
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“What are you doing?” I ask, getting out of the car and walking to them.
“We have to take the bus because Mom’s car didn’t work,” Dylan says, and I look at Caroline, who looks like she wants the ground to open up and swallow her.
“Why don’t I give you guys a lift?” I offer, and she just shakes her head.
“No,” she says, standing tall. “It’s more than okay. It’s not that much of a ride.”
“Right,” I say, “but my mother would kick me in my a—” I stop myself from saying the word and then look down at Dylan. “Butt if she knew I didn’t drive you home. Not to mention, what my father would do to me.” I smile at her. “So technically, you would be saving me.”
“Do you still get time-outs?” Dylan asks, and we both laugh at him.
“Actually, you would be surprised,” I say, then I look at her. “Let me drive you home, please.”
“I don’t want you to go out of your way,” she says. “The bus should be here any minute.”
“I have nothing else planned, and I am just going to end up following the bus to make sure you get home safely, so it’s just easier if you let me take you.”
“You really don’t—” she starts to say, and I stop her.
“I know I don’t have to,” I say, and she looks at me, her eyes still a bit red, “but I want to.” I look down. “Let me take you and Dylan home, Caroline.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “If I’m honest, that would be really great.” She turns to walk to the SUV, but I stop her and take the bag from her shoulder. She just smiles at me shyly and tucks her falling hair behind her ear. She is a mother to one of your kids, I tell myself, so she could be someone’s wife. And just with that thought, I feel a sudden sense of loss, and I have no idea what is going on.
Chapter Four
Caroline
“He needs a booster seat, right?” Justin asks me when he opens the back door to his SUV. He goes to the trunk, taking one out, and my stomach sinks even more than it did before. I watch his arm muscles while he puts the bag in the trunk. His baseball cap hides the dark hair that I know he has because I may have googled him for one hot second when I left the arena. I don’t know hockey; I know nothing about hockey except that my kid loves to play it, and according to everyone around us, he’s really good at it. I also try to make sure he is at every practice and every game, but I didn’t know how expensive the equipment was, even when bought secondhand. He had to sit out a couple of games once because his skates were just too small for him. I kept going back to the secondhand shop, hoping they would get a pair in his size. Luckily, the coach came through with a secondhand pair that I could buy.
“Let’s get you in,” Justin tells Dylan, who grabs his hand and gets into the SUV. He buckles him up like an expert. I stand here, not sure what to do or where to go when he shuts the door and looks at me. His brown eyes are a bit darker than they were this morning, and I avoid them when he starts to really look at me. The phone beeps in his pocket, and he takes it out and types something back and then looks at me. “Do you want to give me your address so I can plug it in?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, giving him the address, and he types it in.
“That’s almost an hour from here,” he says, and his tone is tight. I suddenly just want to grab Dylan from the back seat and go about my way. I’ve had the worst day so far. My car finally died, and no amount of praying and cursing would bring it back to life. One of the workers at the office looked at it, and he just shook his head. I had to borrow Amy’s Uber account to get here. She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, but she has her own issues. I know that money is tight for her, too, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I understand if you can’t take us,” I say, trying to keep my hands from shaking by crossing them together.
“How long would it have taken you to get home on the bus?” he asks, and I don’t know where he is going with these questions.
“I’m not sure. Probably longer than an hour,” I answer him. I don’t even dare tell him that I would have to take two buses. Something that we will have to do tomorrow also. We are going to have to be out of the house by six to make it here by eight, and I’ve already arranged a lift with another co-worker who will pick me up at the arena on her way to work.
“He’s had a long day,” he says. “He was on the ice for over three hours.” I look at him, expecting him to say more except he doesn’t. He gets into the driver’s seat, and I stand here, wondering what he was actually getting at. I walk around the passenger side and get into the front seat. The car has a new car smell, a smell I recognize from when my parents got a new car right before I left home.
Reaching behind me for the seat belt, I fasten it while he looks in the back to make sure that Dylan is okay and then starts driving. I have to force myself to look out the window, or I’m going to gawk at him the entire ride.
“Thank you,” I finally have the courage to say. I look at him, and it’s the wrong thing to do or maybe it’s the right thing to do, who knows. One of his hands holds the steering wheel while the other arm rests on the door. “You really didn’t have to go out of your way like this.”
“I have sisters,” he says and then looks at the road. “I would hope that if any of them were stuck, someone would help them.” I nod. “Why do you think I have a booster seat?”
“I have no idea. I assumed you had a child,” I say, ignoring the pit in my stomach.
“No, my sister Allison came to visit a couple of months ago, and I needed two, so then I keep one in my other car and one in here just in case,” he says.
“Do you just have one sister?” I ask him. I don’t know why it even matters.
“No.” He laughs. “I have four siblings.” My mouth flies open. “Yeah, and I’m the baby.”
“Oh my gosh.” I laugh. “So you must be the spoiled one.”
He shrugs and smirks, and it just makes him so much better looking than before. “I say no, but everyone else says yes.”
“Are you the only boy?” I am suddenly so curious about his family.
“No.” He shakes his head. “Matthew, who is twenty years older than me, is the firstborn.”
“Wow, he could be your dad,” I point out. When he throws his head back and laughs, my thoughts immediately wonder what it would be like to lean over and kiss his neck, right below his ear. I shake my head, making the image go away. Don’t go there.
“He sometimes forgets he is my brother and not my dad,” he says. The car stops, and I look forward at the three lanes of traffic. Justin looks down at his phone. “It looks like there is an accident.”
“I’m sorry if this puts a damper on your night,” I say.
“I told you I had nothing planned, so it’s all good.” He looks ahead and then looks at me again. “Do you want to stop somewhere to eat? By the time you get home, it’ll be really late to start dinner.” I swallow, and it feels like my tongue just swelled in my mouth.
“No, we really can’t,” I say. “I already have dinner for us,” I lie. The last thing I want to tell him is that I have seven dollars left in my bank account, and that I’m going to use most of it on the bus rides now. He just nods, and I don’t say anything for the rest of the way home.
When he turns on our street, my heart starts to beat faster. It’s going to be no surprise that we live in a not-so-great area. And that the five apartment buildings placed in a baseball diamond shape are for the low income.
“You can just drop us off here,” I say when he pulls between building one and two. He pulls over, and then when the car shuts off, I undo my seat belt and get out. Justin is already out of the SUV and opening the back door to help Dylan out. I stand in the back, not sure how to even open his trunk. He comes over and opens the door, handing me the hockey bag and Dylan the gym bag. “You go to bed early tonight,” he tells Dylan, holding out his arm to fist bump him. “Don’t stay up late watching television.”
“We don
’t have a TV,” Dylan says. My eyes fly to Dylan’s as my heart speeds up. “But I’ll go to bed early,” he says and comes to stand next to me.
I look at Justin, who just stands there, and the bottom of my neck starts to get hot. “Dylan, say thank you to Coach Stone.”
“Thank you, Justin,” he says and fist bumps him again, and then turns to walk to our apartment building.
“Thank you so much,” I say and turn to walk away. I don’t look behind me. One, I’m afraid he’ll catch me looking at him, and two, I don’t want to see that look of pity on his face at the fact we don’t have a television. Dylan’s hand slides into mine, and blinking away tears, I look down at him, knowing how much he has suffered through all this.
“What do you want to eat for dinner?” I ask him, and he shrugs. “How about some mac and cheese?” I suggest his favorite meal, and he just smiles. As we walk up the stairs, it gets hotter and hotter. I’m not even going to think about how hot it is in our apartment.
Unlocking the door, I walk in, not looking at anything, and then I hear Dylan shriek, “Dad!” My head snaps up as I see Andrew sitting on the couch. The hockey bag drops on the floor at the same time Dylan runs to him and Andrew hugs him. It’s been two months since we’ve seen him. Two months of peace for me. I close the door and toss the keys on the small kitchen table.
“Go take a shower, Dylan. I’m going to start dinner,” I say, and he looks at me and walks to the bathroom. I wait for the door to close and the water to turn on before I turn back and look at Andrew. The man I used to love, the man who promised me everything would be okay, the man who’s lied to me over and over again.
“What are you doing here, Andrew?” I ask him, folding my arms over my chest.
“I missed you guys,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“I have no money for you,” I say. “And there is nothing left for you to sell either.”
“I’m not here for that,” he says, and I look at him and see the shell of the man he used to be. His dirty jeans, his yellowed shoes, his gray shirt with stains all over it, but more importantly, the needle marks up and down his arm.
“You really have to go,” I say.
“Why are you being like that?” he says, getting up and coming closer to me. He smells like he hasn’t showered in weeks. “I just need a place to crash for the night.”
I’m about to tell him to get out of the house when the door opens and Dylan sticks his head out. “Mom, can I wear one of the new shirts to bed?”
“Yeah, honey,” I say, grabbing the new bag and looking over to see Andrew’s eyes go from me to the bag. “Keep that in there with you and then put it in the bedroom when you are done with it.”
“Okay, Mom,” he says, closing the door, and I turn back to Andrew.
“You can’t stay here,” I say.
“Why not?” he whines, and I just shake my head.
“Because the last time you came here, so did your dealer,” I hiss. “Then he came back every freaking day until I paid him the five hundred dollars you owed him!” I shout.
“I’m going to pay you back,” he says, and I turn around, walking to the cabinet and taking out a pot. “You know I just have—”
I fill the pot with water then put it down on the burner and turn around. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Andrew. I really couldn’t care less.”
“God.” He shakes his head. “You can be such a bitch.”
“Yup,” I say, turning around to ignore him, while he goes to the couch and grabs his jacket.
“All I wanted was to spend some time with Dylan, and you give me shit about it.” I look at how his beautiful blond hair is now dark and stringy, and his blue eyes are so sunken in you can barely look at him.
“Last time you did that, we left, and you stole the fucking television,” I say.
“Whatever. I don’t have to stay for this bullshit,” he says, storming to the door and slamming it closed behind him. I walk over and lock it. Although it obviously doesn’t matter if he broke in here before. I close my eyes, and the tears come no matter how much I try to fight them. I work my ass off to make sure Dylan has everything he needs, and just when I think I’m getting ahead, Andrew comes in and knocks all my cards down.
The phone rings in my back pocket, and I don’t even look at who is calling. “Hello,” I answer, my low voice almost a whisper.
“Um, Caroline.” His voice comes through, and I open my eyes. “It’s Justin.”
“Um, yeah.” I wipe away my tears as if he can see me. “Did I forget something in your vehicle?”
“No,” he says, and his voice goes soft. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I don’t know why I want to tell him that I’m not okay. That I haven’t been okay in a long, long time.
“I’m fine,” I say. It’s the answer I give everyone because this is my life. As my parents said, I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. “What’s the matter?”
“So I was thinking that I really don’t use my vehicle during the day,” he starts, “and I know that you’re stuck.”
“I can’t do that,” I say. “I’m not your problem.”
“I never said you were. I’m saying that my vehicle will be parked in a parking lot doing nothing,” he says, and his voice goes softer. “Just take the favor, Caroline.”
“I can’t,” I say, closing my eyes. The door to the bathroom opens, and Dylan comes running out. “I have to go,” I say, disconnecting and looking at him.
“Where’s Dad?” he asks, and I look at my son, who I will protect with everything I have.
“He had to go to work,” I say. “He said he’ll see you soon.” I watch his lower lip tremble, and he blinks and rushes to wipe away the tears. I take a step toward him, but he shakes his head.
“I’m tired,” he says and then runs to the bedroom and gets into the bed. I walk to the bed and sit next to him.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” I say, my fingers playing with his hair, and I lean down and kiss his cheeks.
“Whatever,” he says, and I hear the hissing of the stove and run to see that the water I turned on is no more. I turn off the burner and put the pot in the sink. I catch my breath for just a second before I have to go back into the room, and I find that Dylan’s already asleep. I turn off the light and head to the shower, and only when I’m under the water do I let the tears escape.
Chapter Five
Justin
I don’t have a TV. His voice plays over and over in my head. I couldn’t help but call her. I actually wanted to go to her apartment and take her to Walmart and buy her a TV or even ten. I didn’t care. Instead, she answered me in tears. I know she did because I heard it, and more importantly, I felt it. It’s fucking insane that I have this pull to her. It’s because of Dylan, I keep telling myself. You are drawn to the kid.
I slam my car door, then walk into my condo, and the cold air hits me right away. Closing the door, I walk over to my couch and grab my laptop to bring with me to the island in my kitchen. I have a huge open floor plan, and my sister came down one weekend to make sure I had all my stuff.
Pulling up the documents I got with every kid coming to the program, I type in his name, and it comes up right away with a picture from his school. I read all his information, or I start to, and then I stop. My foot starts to bounce up and down, thinking about whether I should read it or not. I want to read it, but I also don’t want her to feel like I’m snooping. I look at one thing before I decide to shut it down. Single mom.
After shutting the laptop, I walk over to the fridge and open it, grabbing a bottle of water. I close my eyes and think about what they are doing. I take out my phone, and I almost call her again, but then I can hear my sisters’ voices in the back of my head calling me a stalker. I walk toward the balcony and sit outside, watching the lights from the buildings start to shine brighter as the sun goes down. So many things are going through my mind that I don’t know where to start. “This is either the best thing ever, or it’s going
to blow up in my face,” I tell the universe while I make my plan for the next day.
* * *
I hit the road at four thirty, not even sure what time she has to leave home to take the bus, but either way, I’m going to make sure I don’t miss her. I pull up and see some people hanging around. A couple of women who have seen better days look my way when I pull up to the curb and turn off the car. I watch as the building slowly comes to life as the minutes tick by. People taking the bus come out every five minutes, and right at six a.m., I see her walking down the sidewalk with a sleepy Dylan beside her and get out of my vehicle. She is holding his hand and looking tired herself. Her blond hair is pulled back in a high bun on her head.
I wait for her to look up, and when she finally sees me, she stops in the middle of the sidewalk. I walk to her, her green eyes locking on mine as she stands there with her mouth hanging open. Dylan stops moving and looks at her, and then his eyes fly to me, and he just smiles. The big hockey bag is hefted over her left shoulder. “What are you doing here?” she asks me, almost in a whisper.
“Well, I figured if I asked you if you needed a ride, you would tell me no, so I decided it would be better to just show up.” She looks down in order to hide her smile. “So now that I’m here, will you accept that ride?”
“What time did you get here?” she asks, and I reach over and slowly take the bag from her shoulder. She lets me but only because I think she’s still in shock that I’m standing here.
“Hey, buddy,” I say to Dylan, who rubs his eyes.
“Hi, Justin.” His voice is sleepy.
“Did you just pull him out of bed?” I ask, and she just nods her head.