Page 69 of Taking Care of You
Just hearing him say that almost threatens the wracking sobs to come back, but I push my pain down, tired of breaking down in front of him. Why does this shit always have to happen to me?
He grasps my hand and leads me to the car, where Crystal and Isaiah have stuffed in some items I couldn’t fit in my duffle bag. Crystal looks distraught, eyes wide and red, brimming with tears. I give her a small smile that she barely returns. She pulls me in for a brief hug, then races away after a sob breaks free. I hope she doesn’t cry for me for too long. I’d hate to make her feel sad so close to Christmas.
I take one last look at my mother—Barbara—and the house I’ve called home since I was a child. I never want to come back to this place ever again.
23
After we get back to his house and Ethan tucks me into his bed, I finally let the hysterical sobs out. I break down completely, curling into a ball and hugging a pillow to my chest. My body jolts violently with every sob, and I know I sound like I’m going crazy, but I can’t stop the sounds that are escaping my throat.
I knew she was capable of cruelty, but nothing like this. Even though I know she didn’t like me around, I thought she could at least pretend while I was still in school so I would have a roof over my head.
What’s crazy is she didn’t even like me being in the house. She’s always had an issue with me being around, talking down to me and giving me shit about nothing. But when I’m not in the house, she gives me shit for that too, calling me a whore and a slut. I can’t win.
For her to toss all my shit out on the lawn was both embarrassing and hurtful. She could have called me to come and pack my stuff. She could have texted me or even told Crystal to get in touch with me. She could have done any number of things, but she chose to litter the lawn with everything I own. Some ofit was school books that I can’t afford to replace. If I have school dues that aren’t paid, I won’t be able to walk across the stage and receive my diploma.
That makes me cry even harder and I can barely catch my breath. Ethan climbs in behind me and folds his body around mine, trying to soothe me with his presence. He tries to dry the tears from my face, but they’re coming too hard and too fast, and I can’t stop them if I tried.
It’s all the years of pent-up hurt and neglect finally coming out. All the years I swallowed down the pain and distress that I’ve endured. All the disregard and disdain from my mother, her hurtful words, my father’s absence. All of it is coming out because she kicked me out. It’s like the end of a chapter and, while I should be happy, I just feel unwanted, unloved, and discarded.
Ethan is a rock. He doesn’t move or let me go for as long as it takes for me to cry myself out.
By the time my sobs subside, the space under my head is drenched, and my face and neck are wet with tears. Ethan turns me over slowly and looks down at me, his eyes pained.
“I know it’s a stupid question,” he murmurs, “but are you okay?”
I can’t get words out, so I just shake my head. He nods, then wipes the tears from my face. He gently pushes up my shirt and pulls it over my head. I notice then the large wet spot there, tears having dampened the fabric. He goes to his dresser and grabs another shirt, then helps me slide it on. He sits on the side of the bed and stares at me, his eyes so sad. I hate that he’s sad because of me.
“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m not leaving you. I just…” He stops talking and runs a hand over his face. “Give me a minute, okay?”
Nodding, I tuck myself back into a ball and close my eyes. I feel his weight leave the bed, then I hear the door open and close. My eyes grow heavy, and before Ethan comes back, I’m already asleep.
Feeling fingers on my face, I wake up to see Ethan lying beside me, stroking lightly across my cheeks.
“Hey, babe,” I croak out. God, my voice is fucked. From the crying and sleep, I hardly recognize my own words.
“Hey,” he greets me softly. He still runs his hand over my cheek and I shiver at the contact. “Sleep well?”
“Kinda. How long was I out?”
“Over an hour. My parents are home. They wanna talk to you.”
My stomach drops as I climb out of his bed. Will they try to get me to talk to my mother so I can go back home? Will they tell me to make things right with her so I have somewhere else to stay?
That’s probably why they want to talk to me. I don’t have anywhere else to go.
I could ask Crystal and her dad, but I’m sure they’re barely getting by with the two of them. He won’t be able to afford another mouth to feed.
Maybe I can get my dad to talk to my mother. I can go to his job, tell him what happened, and see if he can talk some sense into her. Let her know I’ll stay out of her way if she lets me come back home.
Ethan leads me out of the room. He walks over to the other wing of the house, the wing I’ve never been to, and knocks on a door. I hear his mother answer, and we enter a real theater room. There are two rows of recliners with a projector screen on the wall. There’s even a popcorn machine, but I think that might just be for show. I guess the living room is just for Ethan.
When she sees me, Grace stands immediately and hugs me. She squeezes me tightly and sniffles a little. Her arms around me are everything I’ve ever wanted from a mother, so warm, so welcoming. I wrap my arms around her and don’t want to let go.
She pulls me over to one of the recliners and sits me down. Ethan sits on the arm of the chair beside me, and Grace sits on Frank’s lap.
“Ethan told us what happened. I’m so sorry,” Grace says, swiping under her eyes. I really hate making people sad because my mother doesn’t want me.
“It’s okay,” I mumble.
