Life After Taylah Page 5

  “Avery,” he mutters. “I didn’t think I’d see you anytime soon.”

  It’s almost as if he’s picking on me, even though he’s acting as through it’s normal conversation.

  “I’ve been busy dancing,” I say, walking over and giving him the most awkward hug in the history of hugs.

  “Mmmm,” he grumbles.

  “We’ll do what we have to here, and then we’ll go,” Jacob says, walking to his desk and sitting down.

  I’m still giving my father a look.

  “Have you spoken to Liam?” I ask.

  He stiffens and straightens. “Liam refuses to be a part of my life. I’m not going to chase him.”

  Chase him. Chase him.

  He’s never, not once, made an effort with Liam. He doesn’t visit; he doesn’t take an interest in his life. He just sits back and blames his attitude on him.

  “He’s into the drugs quite heavily,” I say.

  He looks to me with a stiff expression. “Liam is a grown man. He’ll do as he pleases. I don’t know what it is you think I can do.”

  I can’t deal with this. He’s always putting it back on Liam, always claiming that he’s a grown man and can make his own choices. Liam is hurt, he lost his mother but he also lost his father. He had no one to look up to, no one to be proud of him. My father doesn’t deserve him, and I’m tired of trying.

  “You know what,” I say, turning to Jacob. “I’m not feeling all that well. Can we give dinner a miss?”

  Jacob looks to me, shrugs, and turns back to the desk. “No problem.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  I look to my father and he stares at me, a blank expression on his face. “You’re going already?”

  “It seems you two have enough to do here,” I say, turning towards the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

  Not another word is shared as I leave the room. He doesn’t try to stop me, doesn’t offer me a hug or a goodbye. He just lets me go, like he always does. Like he always will. I walk down the hall and catch Wilson at the door.

  “Leaving already?”

  “I’ve got a bit of a headache,” I lie.

  He looks at me, his eyes soft. He knows, but he doesn’t say anything. “Would you like a lift?”

  I shake my head and smile. “It’s a lovely night. I could do with the walk.”

  “I’ll open the gate.”

  I hug him and make my way back down the long drive. When I reach the street, I head into the main part of town instead of going back to my apartment. I’m hungry, and I don’t feel like going home and dwelling on the fact that my father and I can’t have a conversation for longer than five minutes without it going sour.

  I’m off in my own little world, passing people who are busily rushing about. I start to pass a large McDonald’s store but come to a stop when I see Nate and Macy sitting by the window in a booth. I contemplate whether or not to let them see me. They’re probably having a family dinner and that would be rude. But I notice Nate’s face. Macy is chatting his ear off but he’s staring into nothing, his eyes hard, his jaw tight. He’s upset.

  As if he can feel my presence, he turns and stares at me. His eyes soften a touch, but face-on I can see something is wrong. He’s most definitely upset. He waves and I lift my hand, lamely waving back. Macy turns and her eyes widen and a huge grin appears on her face. She starts talking quickly, waving her little hand. I can’t hear a word she’s saying because I’m outside, but whatever it is has a small smile appearing on Nate’s face. He crooks his finger, encouraging me in. I hesitate. I’m not sure it’s the best idea but he looks troubled, and I’m not the kind of person who can just walk away.

  So I walk around the corner, pull the door open and walk over to their booth. Macy leaps out of her chair and rushes over, throwing herself at me. Her tiny arms wrap around my legs. I smile and ruffle her hair. “Hey beautiful girl,” I say.

  “Hi Avie!”

  She takes my hand and pulls me over to Nate. He smiles at me, but it’s not all there. His eyes are angry and his face is tired.

  “Hey Dancer,” he says, his voice lacking emotion.

  “Hey,” I say, sitting down.

  He looks at me and I hold his gaze, hopefully showing the concern for him in mine.

  “Daddy let me come to dinner. I was trying to make some for him because Mommy was sleeping. I did the washing up all on my own.”

  I tilt my head and keep my eyes contacted with Nate’s for a long moment. Did something happen at home? Is that why he’s upset?

  “You’re a very big girl,” I say, turning to Macy, “doing the washing up all on your own.”

  She smiles brightly. “Daddy is going to get me ice cream.”

  “You know,” I say, “there’s a really great ice cream place just around the corner. Would you like to go?”

  “Do they have strawberry?”

  “They certainly do.”

  “Yippee!”

  I turn to Nate. “Want to take a walk?”

  He nods stiffly and stands. Macy runs out the door and we follow her quickly. I take her hand when she reaches the road.

  “Make sure you don’t cross without a grown-up,” I say to her. “We wouldn’t want you to get squashed. Look left and right.”

  She smiles up at me and does as I ask. I catch a glimpse of Nate, who is giving me a soft, warm expression. His anger seems to have vanished, but his troubled expression remains. We cross the road to a large, gorgeous park. It’s alight with lanterns that run down the long, stone path. We begin down that path to the ice cream parlor near my apartment. Macy runs ahead, picking all the flowers she passes.

  “You okay?” I ask Nate as we walk.

  “Yeah,” he mutters.

  I don’t want to push—I don’t know him well enough.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  He sighs and then says, “She was passed out.”

  I look at him out of the corner of my eye. “Your wife?”

  “Yeah. Macy was in the kitchen, at the sink, washing. She had a knife in her hand, Avery. A fuckin’ knife. She was trying to make me dinner because her mother was out cold.”

  Oh God. My heart aches for him. I can’t imagine how scared he must have felt.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, not knowing what else there is to add.

  “She’s been drinking lately. I feel like it’s my fault.”

  “How so?” I ask, keeping my eye on Macy.

  “I’m away a lot. She always has Macy, never having a break. Have I driven her to this?”

  I think about my answer, not wanting to insult his wife but at the same time wanting to make him feel better.

  “You’re providing for your family. I’m not saying it’s easy; I’ve not been your wife or lived your life, but the way I see it . . . when you choose to have a child, you understand that your world will change. Kids are full on—perhaps she could look into finding a carer a few days a week? Maybe that will help her catch up?”

  He shakes his head. “Maybe. I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to be coping and I can’t help but wonder if it’s my fault.”

  “Have you spoken to her about it?”

  “No,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “We just end up in a fight. I get mad at her. I was so fucking mad tonight, I stormed out with Macy.”

  “It was probably for the best,” I say gently. “It will give you time to cool down.”

  “I was hard, Dancer. I put my hands on her and it was rough.”

  I swallow and stop, turning to him. “Did you hurt her?”

  “No, but . . .”

  I take his hand, feeling the rough skin on his palms graze against mine. “Then you can’t blame yourself. You made a mistake, yes, but you walked out and stopped it. If you keep blaming yourself, you won’t find the root of the problem and you won’t be able to fix it.”

  His eyes scan my face and they warm. “I’m sure I met you for a reason.”

  I laugh softly. “To give you advice?�
�

  He grins, but his eyes are dead serious. “No. To give me a friend. I really need a friend, Dancer.”

  My heart melts and emotions flood my body. “Well,” I whisper, “I’m glad I have a friend too.”

  We’re staring at each other. Really staring. My body is aware of him, my heart is turning to liquid and I feel the need to step back. I shouldn’t be so close. Shouldn’t be building a relationship with him so quickly. Friendship should be done slowly, yet with us it seems to come effortlessly.

  “Daddy, look!”

  We both snap out of it and turn quickly to Macy who is holding up a gorgeous, yellow rose.

  “That’s real pretty, baby,” he says, smiling down at her.

  “Do you like roses?” she asks me, showing me the flower.

  I kneel down. “I love them. I have my very own rose garden at home.”

  “Can I see it?” she cries.

  “Perhaps one day you can.”

  I look up at Nate, whose jaw is tight and every now and then it tics. He’s really down tonight, and I don’t know him well enough to be able to make that better or offer the right advice, but I can try and make him happier.

  “Look,” I say, pointing over the road. “There’s the ice cream shop.”

  Macy looks over and squeals with delight, then she takes Nate’s hand and pulls him with full force towards the shop. We get ice cream and Nate offers to walk me the few extra blocks to my house. By the time we get there, Macy is looking sleepy, her face covered in ice cream. I turn to Nate.

  “Thank you for tonight.”

  He smiles, but it’s distant and distracted. “No, thanks for keeping us company. Maybe we can catch up soon?”

  I get to my front gate and turn to him, smiling.

  “Maybe.”

  CHAPTER 5

  NATE

  “I’m so sorry,” Lena sobs, her hands fisted in my shirt.

  I’m trying to forgive her, trying to see both sides to this story. Maybe she is the way she is because of me; maybe my career is ruining my family. Maybe I’m not giving her what I used to give her.

  “It’s done with,” I bite out, trying to calm my voice.

  “You’re still angry at me,” she whispers, looking up at me, tears running down her cheeks.

  “I’m disappointed and you’re going to have to give me time, but I’m not angry.”

  She blinks a few times, lets go of my shirt and swipes her eyes, and then croaks out, “I keep fucking up, Nathaniel. I don’t know why. I want to be a better mom, I love her . . . I do.”

  I sigh. “I know. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe we need to get away for a while? A holiday?”

  Her eyes light up. “We could go to Paris! Remember when we first started dating and we went there?”

  Those were better days, when she was everything. I try to imagine her there again, holding her hand, dancing with her in the streets—but I can’t. It’s not her I see, and that scares the fucking hell out of me. I wish for someone else—anyone else. I smile at her though, because even through the sadness I still made a commitment to at least try. Broken things can be fixed—I can’t give up for the sake of my little girl. I know what it was like growing up with parents who divorced and it’s not okay to do the same. We brought Macy into this world and it’s up to us to give her the best we can.

  “Maybe,” I force a smile. “Or maybe we can go somewhere different.”

  She leans up on her toes and kisses me.

  “I’ll try harder, Nate. You’ll see.”

  God, I hope she’s right.

  ~*~*~*~

  AVERY

  “Why was he dropping you home?”

  I squeal and spin around when I hear the voice coming from the darkness. I’m just about to unlock my front door when he speaks. I put a hand over my heart and take a few steady breaths. It’s just Liam. He’s been sitting here the whole time? I’ve watered my flowers and stood by the fence for at least half an hour, just thinking about tonight. All that time he didn’t care to make it known he was there? Why? Was he waiting to see if Nate would come back?

  “Why have you been sitting here this whole time, Liam? Are you crazy?”

  “I wanted to see what you were doing.”

  “I was watering my flowers!” I cry, throwing my hands up. “There was no need for you to turn stalkerish and watch me.”

  “Why did he drop you home?” he asks again.

  I unlock the front door, angry. I shove it open and step inside, flicking on the lights. Liam follows me. When I turn to him, I cringe. He looks awful. His face is drained of any decent color and his eyes look a little sunken. He’s wearing a shirt with a hole in it, and jeans that have seen better days.

  “You look like shit, Li.”

  He ignores me. “Why did he drop you home?”

  “For shit’s sake,” I snap. “Since when did you become my father?”

  He gives me a hard stare but doesn’t answer me.

  I sigh and mutter, “I saw him when I was walking home from Dad’s. I joined him and his daughter for some ice cream and we walked home.”

  “He’s married,” he says, matter-of-factly.

  “I know that. What do you think we were doing?”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “You were at Dad’s?”

  Talk about rapid subject change.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Yes, Jacob wanted to go there. It lasted all of five minutes before I left.”

  “So nothing has changed then,” he says, walking past me and stepping into my kitchen. He opens the fridge and pulls out my carton of orange juice, opening it and taking a large swig.

  “Do you mind?” I say, feeling my blood boil. It’s never okay to drink right out of the carton.

  He shoves it back in and slams the door shut, before turning to me. “Nope.”

  “Why are you here? I’m sure it’s not to apologize for the other night.”

  He crosses his arms. “I need money.”

  “Shit, Li,” I sigh. “What have you done now?”

  He looks offended. “Nothing, I’m just short on cash and I need to get some food and things.”

  He’s lying; I know he’s lying, but to test it out I say, “Tell me what you need and I’ll buy it for you.”

  He flinches. “Just give me the cash. I don’t have time for your mind games.”

  “If you need it for food, you’ll let me order it,” I say, crossing my arms and giving him a hard stare.

  “For fuck’s sake, Avery. Why do you have to make things hard? You’re just like him!”

  “Excuse me?” I snap. “I’m nothing like him. I’ve been busting my ass trying to help you for years now, Li, and you won’t let me. You’re so wrapped up in your emotional bullshit that you have fucked up your own life.” I scream the end part, and I hate that he’s gotten me so angry, that he’s torn this kind of emotion from me.

  “I never asked you to take care of me,” he roars. “I don’t fuckin’ care if you do or you don’t.”

  “Then why are you here asking for money?” I snarl.

  He flinches. “You know what? Fuck you, Avery. Fuck you and fuck him. You got no idea what it’s like being the forgotten son. He gives you everything you want.”

  “No he doesn’t,” I say, my voice trembling. “He doesn’t give me love, or compassion. The man can’t even have a conversation with me. I never made you the forgotten son, Liam, so I don’t know why you’re so angry with me. All I’ve done for you is try and help you. I give you money and food. I call you all the time. I check on you and I try to show you I care, but you won’t let me. You’re irritated with me and I don’t know why. If you want to hate someone, hate him for shutting down, but don’t hate me. I miss her too. I mourn her just as much as you do. I wonder . . .”

  “She fucked up our lives by disappearing!” he suddenly bellows.

  “Liam,” I whisper in a shocked tone. “She didn’t leave us.”

  “How do you fucking know that? I’ve heard Da
d saying she was seeing another man. I’ve fucking heard him saying that she was thinking of running away with him.”

  This is news to me, and news that isn’t taken well. My mother was my sunshine, my happy place, my best friend and my hero. She wouldn’t abandon her family for someone else. He’s wrong about that; he’s just overheard Dad clutching at straws, trying to find a reason, trying to find someone to blame.

  “She would have never just left us,” I say in a small, broken voice.

  “You don’t know that,” he barks, storming to the front door. “Stop living with your head in the fucking sand, Avery. The fact is, she’s gone, and she’s never fucking coming back. My father is a cunt, and you’re too good for the rest of the world. I’m done with you all. If you won’t help me, then you’re no longer my family.”

  With this, he steps out the door and slams it closed, leaving me speechless and completely heartbroken. I’ve tried so hard over the years to show Liam that I care but he’s not accepted it. He closed down the day my mother left and he didn’t look back. Between him and my father, I was the only rock, and yet neither of them wanted to let me in. She broke us when she went missing—intentionally or not.

  Now we’re seeing what it’s like to live with life after Taylah.

  CHAPTER 6

  AVERY

  I call the only person I can think of, the only person who can even begin to understand. He’s at my house in a matter of fifteen minutes, walking through my front door, sun-bleached hair messy and olive skin still shining from the last application of oil. He’s wearing the surfer version of a wife-beater, showing me his built, bronze arms. He’s got on a pair of board-shorts: they’re blue and white, and they hang down to his knees.

  Kelly walks right over to me, and his eyes narrow. I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, eating a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Cookies and Cream, trying to drown my emotions. He takes the carton from my hand, plucks the spoon from my mouth and digs it in, taking a mouthful of his own before returning it to the freezer.