Page 60 of True Honey
I couldn’t help but feel like a scolded little kid leaving the hospital but I called a cab and by the time I made it back to the Nest my entire body was exhausted with guilt. I fielded whatever questions the boys had before wandering downstairs in search of my bed but when I pushed open the apartment door the smell of dinner hit my nose.
Drew and August were setting the table with dishes I had never used. I pulled at the collar of my shirt just trying to get my head in the right space as the door clicked shut and Drew’s eyes found mine.
“We thought you might be hungry,” she said, and the sweet tone to her voice was enough to have the glass walls built around my heart splintering and threatening to shatter.
“It smells amazing,” I said, inhaling my words.
“Enchiladas,” August said.
“Don’t those take hours to make?” I questioned, kicking the shoes off my sore feet and walking over to the fridge.
“Silas it’s nearly midnight,” Drew said, her eyes drifting to the clock on the stove, 11:49.
Had I really been at the hospital that long? It had felt like all the time was jumbled up into a few minutes not six hours. “Thank you for dinner,” I said, trying to maintain myself until I collapsed in bed. “It’s late, you guys didn’t have to stay up waiting for me.”
“You shouldn’t eat alone,” her voice was patient with me, more patient than I probably deserved after I forgot them waiting at the stadium. Drew made a plate for me as I grabbed a cup from the upper cabinets and filled it with water. “How is he?” She asked.
He’s a recovering drug addict laying in bed suffering through a career ending shoulder injury without a lick of pain medication.“He’s been better.”
I didn’t notice the shake in my hands until the glass slipped, shattering against the corner of the island, the pieces skittering across the kitchen floor. “Shit,” I swore, turning to clean it up and watched as Drew moved faster, scooping up the bigger pieces of glass with her bare hands. “I can do it,” I said but she didn’t listen, she just kept moving. “You’re gonna cut yourself,” I murmured as she moved around me.
I popped open the cupboard that held the broom but by the time I turned around she had already collected most of the glass. I was getting frustrated by the silence and she wasn’t taking a minute to just let me help. It was my fucking fault the glass was broken. My head is fuzzy and I’m bared down by guilt so badly that I can feel it like lead in my bloodstream. I was so flustered that I didn’t even realize that I was raising my voice until I barked, “stop!”
Drew froze by the garbage can, inhaling slowly before she turned around and excused herself from the kitchen leaving August and me standing there without explanation of what just happened.
“What was that?” I asked August as her door shut, the floor still covered in water.
“Oh she just does that sometimes, it’s not your fault,” he said to me, wandering toward the bathroom he returned with a towel just in time for me to fully process what he said.
“What do you mean she just does that?” I asked, “hey no, give me that.” I said, my voice going soft as I took it from him and making him step back just in case there’s more glass.
“Uh—” August backed away, his nervousness palpable as he chewed on the inside of his lip. I could tell that it was a conversation he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have but I stared at him for a moment longer and eventually he folded. “My dad does that.”
“Does what? Auggie?” I said, my heart rate picking up as I cleaned up the last of the water. I stood up and chucked the towel in the sink, pausing to pry the answer out of him again before sweeping the broom over the floor. “Yells?” I asked.
“No,” August said and stopped, “well yeah.” He corrected begrudgingly, “but he breaks a lot of dishes.”
What?The way he said it flooded my body with an unfamiliar heat, one that I had felt the day I found out that Josh was attacked by Ian. The kind that made me want to spend all my stupid rich resources to make a wrong,right.
I ran a shaky hand through my already stress-tugged hair and inhaled slowly before I spoke again. “Did he ever hit you or your mom?” I asked, carefully watching the way August answered.
“He never hit me,” August said.
“What about your mom?” I asked, and waited, my heart in my throat.Please say no.If August even hinted at it… I ground my teeth together trying to control my expression so I didn’t scare him out of being honest.
“I don’t remember,” he answered, clearly uncomfortable with sharing too much without his mother around. I understood, I’d stop digging.
“He was never really nice to Mom, still isn’t. He’s not even really nice to me. I think that’s why we move around so much. She gets nervous when she messes up and then gets in her own head.” He was talking from experience
I yelled at her, that's why she took off. In a moment of frantic distraction and exhaustion I had done the one thing unknowingly that might have set us back another ten steps.
“It’s okay August, I shouldn’t be prying.” I patted the island. “Hey did you get to talk to Daisy?” I asked, changing the subject and letting him distract me with his crush news as my eyes stayed focused on the door that separated Drew and I.
Later that night I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating every wrong step I took that ended up with Cael in a hospital bed, when there was a soft knock on the door. The handle turned before I could say anything and Drew stood in the cracked doorway, illuminated by the bathroom light she left on for August.
I stared at her for a long second before nodding gently, letting her know I was awake. She padded across the room in her pajamas and slipped into bed, her body curling against mine.
“You should be sleeping,” she said, her voice muffled.
