Page 71 of Waiting for Tuesday

She smiled and laid her head on his chest, nestling in. “Yes, but it has to be yourbestpirate story ever.”

“No guarantees.” But his face transformed into a content grin, and he started talking.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with the most elaborate tale I’d ever heard in my whole life. Filled with mermaids, crocodiles, and sword fights, but as the story went on, Shelly’s little body became more and more relaxed, and John’s words slowed, becoming softer and softer until they completely faded.

I couldn’t help but watch them. How they fit together like two peas in the same pod, and how she’d completely pushed me out of their whole garden. He would make such a good daddy. He didn’t just pay attention to her because she loved him; he loved her too, and I could see that from a mile away, both resting peacefully under the large oak tree.

Her little head was nestled right under his chin, and his hand rested on the small of her back, their breathing deep and even, in complete sync with one another. I could feel my emotion building again, and tucked my feet under my body to push myself from the ground.

I looked to the house, where the sounds of laughter and merriment filtered through the cool air, then turned around and began walking in the opposite direction to the woods. I didn’t know where I was going, just that I needed a few moments alone to find peace with myself.

Chapter THIRTY

John

Twenty four years earlier

* * *

Ituckedmy legs under my body and pressed my ear to the floor. The tile was sticky and cool beneath my cheek, but I closed my eyes and practiced my ABC’s inside my head like he told me to. Maybe he wouldn’t find me here. Maybe he would forget about me and finally get so tired he’d fall asleep.

SLAM!

The sounds of something shattering against the wall jolted my body. It was so close I could feel the impact through the floor. I pulled my legs in tighter, wanting so badly to disappear. But as hard as I prayed, it never happened. God never came to save me when my daddy behaved like this. I cracked my eyes open and peered through the gap between the couch and floor.

Maybe that lady would come back, she could find his keys, and he would be happy again. Or maybe they would go into the bedroom, and he’d forget about me. Sometimes, if I was quiet enough, he would forget he was so thirsty, forget he was mad at me for all the things I did. I squeezed my eyes harder, pretending glue had stuck them together like two pieces of paper.

More slams echoed through the walls, and even though my arms and legs were shaking, I didn’t cry like I wanted to. I couldn’t.Shhh… Be quiet. Be quiet or he’ll hear you.

“JOHNNY! Where are you?” His angry voice growled like a monster, echoing against the walls and through the floor. The couch shifted as he sat on the cushions, squeezing my bones as his weight pressed on my hiding place. A small sound came out of my mouth, and I quickly covered it with my hand. But it was too late.

“JOHNNY! Is that you?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears fell to my cheeks, sneaking past the imaginary layer of glue. The couch shifted again, and I wrapped my hand around the welt on my arm still burning from the last time he was mad at me.

He looked down at me, swaying slightly with his hands on his hips. “I’ve found you Johnny, and now you’re going to find my keys.”

Chapter THIRTY-ONE

Tuesday

* * *

Ipressedmy back against a giant oak tree and let my head lull, until the hard, rocky bark could be felt against my scalp.What the hell am I doing?

I closed my eyes, filling my lungs with cool, moisture-laden air, wishing so badly that this day was over. Because the words I needed to say were still heavy on my chest, suffocating me, filling my veins with trepidation, and I needed them out. I needed to be able to breathe again, and somehow putting the distance between us made that easier. Somehow, alone in the woods, I could breathe.

The lights of the cabin glowed faintly in the distance, but I couldn’t see the blankets any longer, nor John and Shelly, who I was sure were still resting peacefully under the large tree. I didn’t know how far I’d gone; all I knew was that it wasn’t far enough. But no distance or time could separate me from what I needed to do. Running would only prolong the inevitable and cause more pain. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

I lowered myself to the ground, digging my fingers into the earth and pulling in deep slow breaths. It was dusk now, and off on the horizon, the sun was making its descent into the dark, stormy night. The combination of darkness and light was breathtakingly beautiful. The sky held mecaptive with a vibrant show of magenta, violet, and orange, a show just for me.

I knew I should go back because I’d been gone at least fifteen minutes, and I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. But I needed this. I needed to ground myself for a few minutes longer. To go back to my roots where things weren’t so complicated and set my mind free.

I thought about Lisa’s words in the cabin, about the glimpse of a wounded man I’d seen so many times but couldn’t place. It all fit now. The scar on his chin wasn’t from a fall from a tree; it came from a darker place. A place I wasn't sure I wanted to know about and was sure I didn’t deserve to hear.

My hands played with the moistened soil of the forest floor, crunching bits of fallen leaves with my fingers. Somewhere along the way fate, had brought him here. To this family, whose love and warmth could be felt even from so far away. I placed my hand on my belly, feeling the slight curve that told me my baby was growing.

The first roll of thunder sounded off in the distance, breaking my mind free. I opened my eyes, and there, not five feet in front of me I saw John’s name, carved into the trunk of a tree. It was drawn by a child, darkened by time and weather, and I pulled myself to my knees and crawled toward it, my breaths coming faster.

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