There’s absolute silence and I definitely would have noticed if we got a call, but he says it anyway as he opens the door and somewhat indelicately shoves me through it. Not hard enough for me to stumble, but hard enough to make a point.
We trudge toward the ambulance in silence. Tristan pats me on the back one more time before I climb in, which makes me realize I was subconsciously worried he was mad at me and now I’m relieved he’s not, as pathetic as that is.
Once he turns on the engine, I expect him to say something. To berate me about my behavior or give me a lecture or something. He loves to give me lectures. Instead, he just drives.
He drives slower than usual back to the station. The cab is silent apart from the sound of our breathing—Tristan’s deep and even, while mine is still erratic and shallow.
It’s all over, and I should feel better. Instead, I manage to feel worse and more stressed out by the second. I’m not sure why. I try to wrap my head around what just happened and why it’s bothering me so much more than all the other shitfest incidents that have gone down in that trailer, but I can’t.
It doesn’t make any sense. Especially considering this is one of the first ones I’ve had any help for.
By the time we pull into the station, there still hasn’t been a call. The EMS gods have blessed my meltdown, apparently. I feel scattered and useless, and I’m still waiting for Tristan to speak. To scold me, I assume. He turns off the engine and drums his fingers on the wheel for a minute, but still doesn’t say anything or make a move to get out.
I start speaking without meaning to, with no conscious idea of what I’m saying, and my voice is already coming out croaky and raw.
“Mom changed a lot after Maddi and then Sky were born. I don’t know if it was because three kids makes it feel more like a family, or because she cared more about protecting girls, or what. But it definitely pissed Dad off more, while she tried a little harder to do Mom shit, when she could. Still got fucked up a lot, but she tried. Fewer week-long benders, no more parties at the trailer with her creepy fucking friends.”
I clear my throat, but it doesn’t help. I lean forward, looking at my hands slung between my knees instead of at Tristan.
“When it was just me, I think it was easier for them. One kid was more like a pet than a family. It was easier to leave me somewhere when they wanted to go party, or drag me along with them, or just have people over whenever. I was always talkative and I’d do normal kid stuff, which would make them laugh, so they’d have me hang out with them and their friends a lot like some kind of entertainment.
“One time we were at their friends’ house in the afternoon. They were fucked up but not like… Not terrible. I was playing with some shitty toy Nana had bought me that was a policeman kit or something. It had a plastic badge and a fake orange gun and some little handcuffs with a plastic key. I don’t know how, but I managed to handcuff myself to the staircase. To one ofthe wooden bannister things. I got upset, because I was eight or something and I was stuck. Mom came over acting like she was going to help me.
“She was all caring and it made me feel better, then out of nowhere, she pulled out a goddamn butter knife. It was literally just a butter knife, it might have even been made out of plastic, I don’t remember. But she tells me that there’s no key and the only way to free me is to cut off my hand, and immediately starts pretending to saw at my wrist with this stupid knife. I start bawling because I think she’s telling the truth, she’s holding my hand still and pretending to saw while cackling like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen, everybody else in the room is laughing, my dad is dancing around behind her making fun of me for crying.”
There’s a long pause. I don’t really know where I was going with the story. I was so worked up before, but right now I don’t feel much of anything and apart from the rawness in my voice, the words come out evenly.
When I do look up, Tristan is looking at me and nodding. Not with pity, thank god, although I don’t know if he really contains pity. But like he gets it. I nod back.
“It’s not fair,” he says.
I keep nodding. “I’m sorry. I was all geared up to have to get him off her or something like normal, when they were suddenly on the same side again, I think it threw me a little. I didn’t mean to lose it.”
“Don’t worry about it now. We can talk about it later once things have settled. Unfortunately, we still have the rest of a shift to get through, and there’ll be plenty of time for psychoanalyzing.”
He opens his door and hops out, moving around to my side and opening the passenger door for me when I don’t do it myself. I unbuckle myself slowly and climb out of the cab like it’s ten-thousand feet off the ground and my body is made of cotton wool, everything about me clumsy and thick.
When I’m on the ground, there’s another pause while I don’t know what to do with myself.
“You need a hug?” Tristan asks, so I know I must really look like shit.
“No,” I lie.
He sees through it and hugs me anyway, halfway in between a bro hug and something more familial. It’s not the same as Silas, which is who I really want to be near right now, but it makes me feel less overwhelmed for a few seconds. When he lets me go, he slaps me on the back hard enough to get me moving back toward the door of the station.
“Come on. You can take a minute to check in on Silas and the girls, and then I’m sure I have plenty of tedious cleaning you can do until the shift is over that will keep you occupied. No need to think about anything at all until the day is over. Got it?”
“Sure.”
We walk inside together, and I can already feel my brain shutting off all the memories from today that it can.
Chapter Five
“When’s Cade coming home?” Sky asks, trying and mostly failing to keep the worry out of her voice.
“He can’t come back until his shift is over. He’s not still at the trailer, he’s just working. I promise.”
Sky seems to relax, but Maddi is staring at her plate, pretending to pick at the food. I’m already apprehensive about the point when Sky gets old enough that she isn’t easily reassured, either.
