Lover of the Light Page 9

  But she's not ready, and neither am I.

  I'm still jumbled, I'm tired, and I don't know if anything I'm thinking is valid.

  So I say what feels right: "I feel like we should do what's best for the baby."

  She nods. "Yeah …" She tightens her arms around my waist. "You're right."

  Looking up at the ceiling, battling chest-tightening emotions and fighting hours of lost sleep, I think for once, I might be.

  Chapter 20

  May 16th, 2012

  10:45 a.m.

  I knew Audrey would be sad about having to leave Hannah to return home. I knew it would be hard saying goodbye. She was kind of melancholy the whole ride back, which is understandable. We have to face reality, we can't just hide out in Chicago for the summer. We have to finish up the last few days of junior year, we have to talk to our parents about the other life.

  We have big issues waiting for us in Harrison.

  But there was one I didn't plan on at all…

  I did not know that John Sawyer would be waiting at the county line.

  I did not know he would pull us over and tell me to follow him to his home so we could “have a little chat.”

  Yeah... That just happened.

  I'm still alive though, which I guess is a good sign. My heart is still beating. Sort of. It's abnormally fast, but its beating.

  I'm sitting in a stiff chair at a mahogany table where Brightside eats dinner with her family every night. I'm dirtying up the Sawyers' clean, wooden floor with my sneakers and trying not to fidget like a scared little boy. There's a Ficus tree in every corner of this dining room, so everything smells musty, soil and lime-scented.

  Seated across from us, Melissa and John Sawyer both seem oddly relaxed, and it's not helping me in the slightest.

  I'm freaking out.

  Chief Sawyer isn't in the mood.

  He means business; his new mustache says it all. He cut his hair. He got rid of the Duck Dynasty beard. He looks like an average Joe, and he's not screwing around.

  He knows what happened. He knows that I barely knew his daughter before we got to the fornicating. It's simple math, really. As far as he knows, I kissed Audrey on the front porch steps last week. I've been dating her for a week. We did not make a baby in those seven days, and that's why John has his poker face on right now.

  The only thing keeping me from having a panic attack is the tiny shred of reassurance that Audrey's hand-holding provides. That, along with the fact that I can see the Chief's firearm holster hanging from the coat rack by the front door. If he goes for it, I can easily make it to the back door in time.

  Solid plan, Tucker.

  I don't really know what other guys my age say in situations such as these.

  I'm sorry I knocked up your daughter?

  No.

  This is something I'm still struggling with. In the blink of an eye, my entire life has changed, and there is not one piece of literature out there to help me understand what to do. My life isn't an MTV series, this shit is real and it's happening whether I want it to or not. Is it really that unusual for a teenage boy to take responsibility for his actions?

  I googled it.

  There's a scarce amount of information available on the internet for teen fathers, let alone those who are considering adoption. I understand that it's a woman's choice—as it should be—but I guess I was hoping to find something like Sixteen and Got Your Girlfriend Pregnant, For Dummies.

  Audrey is emotional. She doesn't know what to say to her parents, and I definitely haven't the slightest clue where to begin.

  I considered giving John a speech about smiles and telling him that I fell in love with his daughter at first sight and promising to make her an honest woman, but… it's 2012. John doesn't want me to marry his daughter, he wants to put me in a choke hold.

  He leans back in his chair, wearing an impassive expression, looking between Brightside and me as though he's trying to figure out which of us he wants to start interrogating.

  Melissa looks between the three of us and gives her daughter a small smile as John takes a deep breath.

  He looks to Audrey and releases a guttural sigh.

  "You are grounded. From now on, you're to go to school and return home immediately." He plants his pointer finger on the table for emphasis, speaking with his hands just like his children. "Do not make any stops along the way. Do not talk to Lainey, and do not try to leave home again, Audrey, because I promise you that next time I won't make it so easy. You are sixteen-years-old. Do you know how many times your mother had to stop me from putting out an Amber alert? Don't ever do that again."

  Audrey nods slowly, keeping her eyes on the ground.

  "I'm sorry, Dad." She lifts her head high enough to look at Melissa. "Thank you, Mom."

  "Don't thank me, Audrey." Melissa shakes her head vehemently. "That was unacceptable. Did you really think we'd let you stay there? Promise me that you won't ever do something like that again. We've been so worried."

  "I won't." She wipes her eyes, keeping her gaze steadied on the ground. "I promise."

  "And you." John directs his gaze to me.

  I swallow back a scream.

  "I don't understand what was going through my daughter's head when she took off like that, but thank you for going after her. I'm sure you're probably in as much trouble as Audrey right now. The fact that you and my son drove across the country means a lot ... But don't do it again."

  I feel my jaw drop.

  I am so confused.

  "That was extremely reckless. Next time you decide to white-knight my daughter, have an adult with you."

  Is he serious right now?

  Clearing my throat, I force myself to nod. "Uh―"

  He starts to stand up. "And I cannot believe your audacity—"

  "John." Melissa places a hand on his chest and shoves him back into his chair. "Honey, I think you said what needed to be said. Why don't we let the boy go home now?"

  John opens his mouth to protest. "Oh, I haven't even begun―"

  "I'm keeping the baby!" Audrey blurts out.

  John drops his jaw, and I feel my eyes grow wide while my heart skips a beat.

  "I mean … I'm not keeping the baby. But I'm not having an abortion." She places her hand over her stomach again. "I can't do that. I can't kill it."

  He watches his daughter for a moment, his gaze softening.

  "Oh, sweetheart." Melissa reaches across the table to take Audrey's hand. "We'd never ask you to do something like that. It's an extremely difficult decision to make, but we wouldn't make you do something your heart couldn't handle."

  John shifts in his chair. "No, we wouldn't. But I have to ask you, kid ..." He leans forward to plant his elbows on the table, rubbing his hands over his face. "What the hell do you think you're gonna do, Audrey? This isn't a cold, it won't just go away on its own. I understand that you don't want to ..."

  I wait for him to go on.

  "I think they're talking about adoption, correct?" Melissa asks, looking between the two of us.

  I nod, still too scared to speak. When I realize Audrey has crawled back into her shell, I clear my throat. "We've been discussing adoption…"

  I leave out the “sort of” since we haven't really pursued the discussion any further since the other night.

  The truth is, nothing has really been decided. There's another life, this baby that Brightside and I made on accident, and we want to do what's best for that life. That’s all we really know for sure.

  Melissa nods carefully, sending me a half-smile. "This isn't a decision to take lightly." Her voice drops as she looks to Audrey. "We won't make you choose. It's your future … But I'm here, I'll help you with whatever you decide to do. This will affect you for the rest of your—"

  "He"―the hand speaker jabs his thumb at me while glaring at his wife―"isn't the one who's going to have to suffer the consequences, Melissa! He doesn't care—"

  "That's not true," she argues, shaki
ng her head vehemently. "Look at him, John." She nods in my direction, holding his stare. "Do you really think he would be here, with our daughter, right now if he didn't care?"

  John looks between Audrey and Melissa, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. After a moment, he looks at me with a fixated stare. "No."

  "He needs to get home to his mother." Melissa palms her cheek, pursing her lips. "She's probably worried sick …"

  "It's okay," I start to protest but stop when I realize Melissa's probably right. My mom is worried sick.

  "I'll take him home." John starts to stand and I swallow down another squeal.

  "No, I'll do it," Melissa protests, shooting out of her chair. "It's a five-minute drive. You can stay here and have a talk with your son about assaulting a minor, whose mother could very well press charges against him."

  "She won't." I shake my head and get up from my chair. "I'll just walk home from here, it's only a few miles."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  I feel a little more relaxed at the thought of Melissa driving me home. I know John won't hurt me. Sort of. I guess I have the fear stuck in my head since he hasn't had a “little chat” with me, as he intended to do.

  I can empathize with him. I know he probably wants to kill me, I'd want to kill me. His daughter is sixteen, he barely knows me, and I pretty much ruined her life … in his eyes.

  I think if I was him, I'd want to know the person responsible for potentially fucking up my daughter's future was at least decent enough to make her smile, and do the best he could to make it right.

  It seems like the least I can do.

  So I push aside my impractical fears, take a deep breath, and force myself to look the chief in the eye. "I'm going to be here for Audrey, no matter what. I don't have a lot of money, but I'll figure out a way to help in whatever way I can."

  Melissa sends me a small smile.

  John huffs.

  And…

  Audrey shoots out of her chair to throw up in one of her mother's Ficus trees.

  Chapter 21

  May 16th, 2012

  11:14 a.m.

  It's kind of awkward getting a lift from Audrey's mom.

  She's quiet throughout the ride. Both hands wrapped around the steering wheel, she spares me a few glances and remains expressionless until she turns down my street.

  I don't expect her to say much, but I'm shocked as hell when she wraps her arms around me.

  Smiling softly, the woman who gave Brightside a happy-healthy life hugs me like it's no big fucking deal.

  Her hug is simple. Caring. And I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I accept it.

  She tells me to call her if I need to talk, as if we could be buddies after everything that went down. She asks if I want her to come in and explain the situation to my mom, which maybe would've been a great idea if my mom were more like Carol Brady.

  With my jaw slacked and my hand inching toward the door, I mumble a quick thanks and force myself to return a smile before I exit the vehicle.

  Mid-morning sunlight temporarily blinds me as I turn toward the driveway, and Melissa pulls off. The sun-spotted death machine is still sitting in the last place I left it, but I can't remember where I put my keys amidst my Brightside-induced panic attack.

  Standing outside of my front door, I stare at the “Welcome” sign hanging on a crooked nail above. My heart beats faster as I think about what's waiting for me on the other side.

  Maybe I can come home later?

  Taking a step back, I grab a fistful of hair and try to think. Think.

  I can't do this.

  What the hell am I going to say to her?

  Do I tell her now?

  No.

  Do I lie?

  What if she already knows? What if someone at the hospital told her they know about Audrey? What if some asshole just walked up to her and told her before I got the chance to?

  My heart races.

  Crap… shit… crap.

  Panic starts to dance in me. With a slow swirl, it swims up my chest and sends unlikely scenarios to my head. Nerves make me twitch, and my breathing quickens as I take another step back.

  I am in such deep shit.

  I'm so negative sometimes, but I'm convinced that my freak-out is pretty fucking plausible.

  Scrubbing my hands over my face, I take deep, deep breaths.

  Why didn't I write a letter or something?

  Why didn't I memorize a speech?

  I need a minute.

  I need a day.

  I need a year to tell her.

  But by then, I won't really have a reason to, will I?

  I take two trepid steps forward.

  Taking a shaky breath, my hands twitching at my sides, I close my eyes and tell myself that everything is going okay.

  "Please don't be mad."

  Closing my hand into a fist, a soft knock on the glass window of the screen door and a step back is all it takes for me to change my mind, and my mom to reach the door.

  I should have snuck in through the window.

  No. I shouldn't have.

  Because she is clearly distraught, red-faced and tear-stained. She's standing in front of me with a shocked look on her face, dressed in one of Dad's old tees and cutoff shorts.

  And even though I was just ready to take off, I don't realize how much I really need my mom until now.

  Relief floods features slowly, shoulders slouch and eyes blink once, twice, then rapidly. "Jesus, kid."

  So quick that I don't get the chance to react, she steps forward and lets the screen door slam behind her. I jump as warm arms envelope, hug tightly, and panic dissipates.

  "I know I'm a crappy mom, Blake, but you can't just run away from me like that." Words croak with cries, broken but relieved. "You can't just leave and do whatever you want. You're still my baby. You're my world, kid. I know I suck at showing it, but I love you and you can't run away from me."

  My face is digging into Dad's shirt, and I'm trying to pull away and hug back at the same time. Taking short breaths, Mom is sobbing, holding on to me for dear life, and I suck at timing.

  Do I just say it?

  I know I should tell her.

  It's killing me.

  No… I should wait.

  "Mom, Audrey's pregnant."

  Or not.

  My eyes squeeze closed, anticipating her reaction. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, feeling as if I am one with dread as her hold loosens. I reopen my eyes and find her staring at me with an expression I am unfamiliar with, one both unsettling and filled with disbelief.

  My mother doesn't speak. She doesn't reprehend or scold. Her silence kills me momentarily, and I wonder if this is it. This is where my mom snaps.

  My mom hates me. She's disgusted. She doesn't want anything to do with me.

  But as she closes her hand over her mouth, I know my fear is unreasonable. Her pale green eyes gloss and close as she inhales. I swallow back the anxiety prickling my throat. From the corner of her eye I notice a tear escape, which she quickly wipes away.

  “I don't understand. Audrey is pregnant?” I nod. “And… you're the father.” I nod again. "Oh, Blake." Muffling words into her hand, I try to think of something to say that would make this better.

  We're going to give it up anyway, so don't freak out.

  No.

  I'm standing there watching my mom cry, and I don't really know what to say or do, so I just let this sink in for a minute.

  “What was I thinking? Giving you all of this freedom. Letting you stay out all night while I--" I know the truth. I know why she feels guilty. She blames her drinking and her sleeping, her absence as a parent.

  “Mom.”

  “And I trusted you! I trusted you to… be responsible. And maybe I was letting you off easy, because of your dad. But this! Blake, I-I know I messed up, but I've had that talk with you a dozen times!”

  A grunting noise leaves her lips as she walks past me and takes a seat on the porc
h. I'm reluctant but follow suit, biting into my lip as her head drops into her hands. “Blake… I'm sorry, but I just spent the last few days thinking that I had lost you. That you weren't coming back, because of everything. I want better for you, and I thought you were smarter than this.”

  Slowly, so slowly that I think something's wrong, she lowers her hand over her heart. I'm caught by surprise as she grasps into me, pulling me in for a tight hug. My shoulders hunch, my heart opens up a little, and I'm not really so scared anymore.

  My mom isn't a monster. She's an alcoholic, and she's a little broken inside. But we all are a little broken.

  "I am so angry with you, Blake Anthony." She sniffles and hugs tighter, too tight.

  I nod against her shoulder. Understand that.

  Her words are strained. "I am so pissed at you right now."

  I nod again. Get that, too.

  "You are so grounded, it's not even funny."

  I nod. Didn't think it was.

  "I'm sorry, Mom."

  I feel her cheek brushing against my shoulder as she nods, squeezing me harder in her deadly tight hug.

  "You are going to walk into that living room, sit down, and explain everything to me from start to finish. I will listen, and I will try not to yell at you until you're done. Are we clear?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Mom does yell at me.

  She's so pissed that I think I see the devil in her eyes a few times.

  By the time I finish telling her about the first time I met Brightside, she's so angry that she groans loudly. She asks me how I could be so stupid, and I sort of just shrug, like, I dunno.

  Because this is the woman who put me into this world, I don't leave anything out. I don't even have to think about telling her about how much I've been freaking out, it just slips out.

  "I don't know what I'm doing." This is my mantra.

  She takes my hand, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a tough situation. No one expects you to have all the answers and do everything right.”

  When I tell her about Hannah's mom and dad, she gets quiet and just listens as I explain to her that I don't think adoption would be a bad idea, and Audrey seems to agree. It hurts a little, but it might be what's best. For all of us.