“What?”
“Believe it.”
We stare at each other in an unyielding match, but what I hope he can see in my eyes is probably the opposite of what I can read in his. I can see it, how it happened. I was there, but hearinghim admit he didn’t even think it was a problem doesn’t make it any better.
The worst part is, I don’t know what I want from him. I don’t know.
The machine whirs louder, followed by a beep that jolts me to my feet.
Jerry raises his hand. “It’s done.” He looks at the machine. “The hemodialysis. Today’s session. The treatment. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Mr. Clay! Good job today.” A nurse walks in. It startles me hearingMr. Clay, because for a long time, that was me. Clay, number eleven—my lucky number. Until eleven wasn’t mine anymore. Until the eleventh night of the eleventh month, at eleven eleven, my whole world was taken from me. And suddenly, I didn’t want to be Clay or number eleven anymore.
I can’t stay here and watch. I can’t talk to this man anymore.
I need air to breathe. I need to go.
“I’ve gotta go,” I say suddenly.
“This won’t take long. You don’t have to go,” she says, and I shake my head.
“No, I—” I clear my throat in a deep, low cough. “I have to go to work.” A white lie, but who’s going to know? “I’ll see you around, okay?”
He nods while the nurse continues doing her thing, clicking buttons and working on his arm.
“I’ll be here on Wednesday, same time, if you want to come.”
That stops me in my tracks. He’d come back to treatment if I’m here. He’ll live. It’s not a small feat to have someone’s future in my hands, so I nod. “I’ll come back.”
I leave, the rush of my blood surging to my head, threatening to hit me harder than any headache ever has. Every little boy idolizes their dad, and so did I, until my rose colored glasses fell off, and I knew the truth.
But all this time, I thought it was a choice. I thought he woke up and decided he was going to drink because life was hard. I hoped we had money troubles or they had marriage troubles. Hell, I even hoped he hated us, and he drank so he could tolerate us. Because if that was the case, I would’ve been able to hate him forever.
But this? Not even realizing it was a problem until it was too late? Accidentally becoming addicted to something so normalized anywhere… That I wasn’t expecting.
If he wasn’t the villain in my story…then who was?
10
A TIME MACHINE
A House With No Mirrors by Sasha Alex Logan • The House That Built Me by Miranda Lambert
Natalie
Whoever saidpatience is a virtueabsolutely never had to do everything alone. They definitely weren’t a single mom whose porch collapsed before breakfast. I’ve been pacing the kitchen all morning, hands shaking every time I catch sight of the splintered wood outside the window—another broken thing waiting for me to magically know how to fix it.
Well, I don’t.
Nick did it all, and yes, I’ve been able to catch up on learning how to do a lot of things, but fixing giant broken porches is not one of them. Thank goodness today’s my day off, and the store is closed.
I’ve already called Jake. Twice. No answer. Everyone else? “Sorry, Nat, I’ve got work.” “Can’t today.” “Maybe this weekend.” It’s nobody’s fault, I know that, but it still feels like the universe is screaming:figure it out yourself.I could figure it out myself,I think. I could find step-by-step instructions online, but my girls only have one parent left. I don’t take uncalculated risks anymore, and judging how clumsy I am, using power tools I’m unfamiliar with seems like the ultimate risk.
I’m elbow-deep in dishes when my phone lights up, vibrating loudly on the counter. It’s someone calling the shop, and although we’re closed, the few calls we get, I need to be able to answer them. So, call forwarding it is.
“Hello, The Blooming Wine?”
“Mm, hi. Natalie?”
