Page 25 of Just A Little Chase

They stepped in line and when it was their turn, Pete’s eyes went wide when he saw who was standing in front of him.

“Lauren!” he exclaimed in a fond tone. “How have you been? How’s the big city life in New York treating you?”

“Just great, Pete,” she said, her typical infectious grin lighting up her face. “It’s nice to see you’re still peddling the best ice cream in the state.”

He scoffed at the compliment, but he was smiling as his gaze shifted to Chase, who was still holding her hand. “And who is this young man with you? He doesn’t look like a local.”

“He’s not.” Lauren beamed up at him before returning her gaze to Pete. “This is Chase. He’s here with me for the weekend, to attend my sister’s wedding.”

“Ahhh,” Pete said with an understanding nod. “Well, welcome back. What can I get for the two of you?”

He opened the lid on the top of the cart, revealing tubs of various ice cream flavors inside the freezer compartment. Chase opted for a single serving of freshly churned butter brickle on a regular cone, while Lauren selected two scoops, one strawberry and the other chocolate.

They found a vacant park bench and sat down to eat their dessert, which was admittedly the most delicious ice cream Chase ever had. He finished his cone first, and since he found watching Lauren’s tongue slowly lick around her ice cream too damned erotic, he diverted his attention and pulled out the books he’d bought earlier on the Civil War. He skimmed through the pages, immersing himself in the pictures and explanation of each captured moment of battle.

“Sooo,” Lauren started tentatively, prompting Chase to glance up at her to see why she sounded so hesitant, and realized she’d finished her own ice cream cone at some point. “Is a love of history something you shared with your father?” she finally asked.

The question made him visibly tense, as any discussion about his father did, and even though she’d clearly seen him stiffen at her inquisition, she didn’t try to backtrack or recant her question, even knowing what a landmine she was possibly walking into. Instead, her unflinching gaze held his, so hopeful and compassionate, even.

She was giving him an opening to share something deeply personal with her, and he couldn’t forget the last time she’d made a casual comment about his dad and how he’d snapped at her, that anger and resentment he harbored toward his parent always simmering beneath the surface. Talking about Eli Gossard in any capacity had always been like picking off a scab on an old wound, but as he stared into Lauren’s caring eyes, he realized that he desperately wanted those scars to heal. He didn’t know if it was even possible, but this time, he didn’t try to evade, or avoid, the painful conversation.

“No,” he finally said in a quiet tone. “Getting lost in history books was my escape and distraction from the life I was living with my father.”

Her eyes were brimming with questions, but she remained silent, allowing him to make the decision of whether or not he continued to give her a glimpse into his own childhood and past. Knowing there would be no judgement from Lauren, he allowed those walls to lower enough to give her a glimpse into his past.

Setting aside the history books next to him on the bench, he exhaled a deep breath and dove in before he lost the nerve, starting at the beginning so Lauren could understand the whole story. “My parents, Eli and Darlene, got married because they were pregnant with me. I doubt love ever played into that decision, because from as young as I can remember, they fought constantly. Loud, bitter, nasty fights that were horrific to watch, and hear, as a kid. The things they said to one another were so awful and hurtful. The one thing my mother would always tell my father was that she never would have married him if she hadn’t gotten knocked up with me, which of course, made me feel as though I was the issue.”

“I’m so sorry, Chase,” she said softly, and he didn’t miss the ache in her voice.

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees, and stared down at the concrete beneath his leather loafers, determined to finish the story. “When I was seven, one day I came home from school and my mom was gone. She’d left my father for another guy, and my father told me they were getting a divorce.” He cast a glance at Lauren, his own heart twisting in his chest at the pain he saw in her eyes, for him. “She never said goodbye to me. She just packed up her things and left, and I never saw or spoke to her again, so I thought her leaving was all my fault. That I was to blame.”

She scooted closer on the bench, until she was right next to his side, then looped her arm through his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You were just a kid, Chase.”

He nodded, surprised by just how good her comfort felt when he was so used to suppressing his emotions. “I know, but that’s what seven-year-olds do. They internalize everything, and I was really good about burying all my anger and pain and that sense of abandonment I felt not just from my mother, but my father, too.”

“How so?” she asked quietly.

He scrubbed a hand along his clenched jaw, forcing himself to relax, which wasn’t easy when those old memories reminded him of how bad and emotionally damaging things had been. “You’d think my father would see a divorce as a way to start out fresh and new, but instead he fell into a deep, dark depression, to the point that everything in his life fell apart because he couldn’t stop feeling sorry for himself. He started drinking, and ignored me for the most part. He lost his job and after unemployment ran out, instead of looking for a new job he went on welfare and did nothing but stay home, drink, and watch TV. How fucking lazy and irresponsible is that?” He couldn’t hold back the bitterness that seeped into his voice.

“I can’t imagine how difficult that had to be for you,” she said empathetically.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, since my father was basically useless, I grew up pretty damn quick, starting at the age of seven. If I wanted to eat, I had to scrounge through the cupboards for food and make my own meals, and his, too, or else he’d just drink beer for dinner. If I needed new clothes, I had to beg my father for a few dollars so I could buy pants and T-shirts and shoes at Goodwill. I did the laundry and the cleaning and made sure I was up in the morning for school, because my father was usually passed out from the night before. And when I was old enough, I took on a paper route and mowed neighbors’ lawns to make extra money to pay for household things.”

“So, you took care of your father, and got nothing in return.”

“Yeah, pretty much. I was the parent from the age of seven until I left for college at eighteen.” He leaned back against the bench, and as he watched all the families enjoying the beautiful fall day with their kids at the park, he felt a pang of envy for what he’d missed out on. “The thing is, I wouldn’t have cared about any of that if my father had just tried to be a better person who didn’t wallow in self-pity.”

Lauren cleared her throat and paused for a moment before speaking, as if unsure how he’d react to her next comment. But true to her dauntless personality, it didn’t stop her from bringing up another painful topic. “Billie didn’t give me details, but she did mention that you didn’t even know about her until a few years ago, when your father was dying.”

“Yeah, that was a shocking little surprise my dad sprang on me a few days before he passed away of kidney failure,” he said, his tone gruff. “When my mother left us, my father knew she was pregnant with another man’s kid, and for some reason he wanted to clear his conscience before he died by letting me know I had a half-sibling. So, when he was gone, I hired an investigator to track down my mother and get me whatever details he could on my half-sibling. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do with the information. I was mostly pissed at the entire situation and never really thought I’d ever contact my mother or my brother or sister… until I read the investigative report and found out what happened to Billie.”

He pressed his lips into a grim line, remembering how horrified he’d been to learn what his sister had been through. “My mother is just another shining example of a self-centered, inadequate parent. Not just for abandoning me, but for staying with an asshole of a man who had a drug addiction and who would give up his own child to the system after Darlene died because he didn’t want to raise a child he didn’t want in the first place. Billie was only eight at the time and spent the rest of her childhood in foster care.”

Lauren gasped in shock, clearly not aware of those appalling details. “How could a parent do that to their child?”

Deeply rooted anger twisted inside him. “I honestly don’t know, but I made contact immediately with Billie, even though I knew she was doing well on her own, considering how she’d grown up. But despite everything, she’s my sister, someone who also was a victim of circumstances beyond her control, because of the shitty decisions and choices our mother made. I…” His voice cracked unexpectedly, and he swallowed back the sudden tightness in his throat. “I wanted Billie to know that she wasn’t alone in the world, because I knew what that loneliness felt like. That I cared about her and wanted to give her the kind of stability she grew up without. I wanted to be someone she could depend on, always.”

Lauren looked up at him, her soulful eyes on his face as she slid her palm down his arm, until her hand clasped his and her fingers held on tight. “You’re such a good man, Chase.”

---