Page 11 of When He Saved Me
My own eyes flooded with tears at the accusation. “I swear I didn’t. It was an accident!”
Ms. Nelson, one of the cafeteria supervisors, came over with a stern expression. “Boys! What happened here? What’s going on?”
We both began speaking at once, Asher accusing me of tripping him while I vehemently denied it. “Come on, you two. Let’s head to the office where Mrs. Brewer can sort this out.”
By one-thirty, both of us were being sent home. Neither of us had eaten lunch, but I wasn’t hungry anyway. My stomach roiled at the thought of disappointing my parents.
My dad arrived, still dressed in his suit from work, and after having a few words with Mrs. Brewer, I was escorted out to the car. He said nothing on the way home, but I could feel the weight of his disappointment settle on my shoulders.
He pulled into the driveway, and we both sat for a moment, the heavy silence permeating every inch of the space between us. He sighed deeply and then got out of the car. I scrambled to follow, not wanting to disappoint him further.
We went in through the mudroom, stripped out of our coats, and I hung my backpack on my hook. I followed him to the kitchen but was brought up short when he disappeared into the pantry, returning shortly with an unopened package of Oreos. He grabbed the milk from the fridge and two glasses from the cabinet before sitting at the island. He pulled out a stool, taking another for himself, and invited me to sit.
“Tell me what happened.”
I remember many things about my father, but the thing that will forever stand out in my mind, the characteristic that I will always strive to model myself after, was his kindness. When I finally met his eyes that day, I didn’t see disappointment or anger, only compassion.
The whole story came tumbling out of me in a mess of tears and snot. How I’d tried to make friends, not once, but twice, and how the tripping incident had been an accident. And after it all was done, I will never forget the words he spoke.
“Some people will make it difficult to know them. Some will bristle at kindness and brush away our attempts at friendship. Those are the people who perhaps need it the most.”
He poured two cups of milk, then opened the cookies, offering me one.
“But why, Dad? Doesn’t everyone want a friend?”
“Sometimes people get hurt in here.” He gestured to the area right in the center of his chest. “And they lash out to protect themselves from it happening again.”
I thought about that, trying to puzzle out what he meant. “Like when someone is mean and it makes you feel sad, so you don’t want to play with them anymore?”
“Something like that. I think maybe someone made Asher feel very, very sad and now he’s scared other people might make him feel sad too.”
“Asher didn’t seem sad, Dad. He was just really mad.”
“I think maybe his sadness is hiding underneath his anger. He’s trying to make sure you don’t hurt him.”
“I would never hurt him!”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know that,” he said gently.
“I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”
Dad smiled at me. “I know you will, kiddo. Just be patient with him, okay?”
“I can try.”
CHAPTER6
JAMIE
I’d losttrack of the days as I sat in Mom’s hospital room and watched her sleep. A nurse came in, checked some readings on the machines, and then changed out her IV bag and left. I barely noticed him.
I held Mom’s hand as if it was a lifeline anchoring her from the next life to this one. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. I wasn’t ready to be an orphan.
Late last week, while I’d been working on some homework at The Daily Grind, I’d gotten a call from Aunt Cathy. Mom had been admitted to the hospital with a high fever and suspected dehydration. I’d shoved everything in my backpack and bolted, getting to the hospital in record time.
Mom had picked up some sort of infection, and because of her delicate immune system, they had insisted on keeping her in the hospital to administer antibiotics intravenously. She’d been pretty delirious for the first couple of days, awake for only short periods, and, even then, barely aware of her surroundings. By Monday, she’d been able to stay awake for an hour or so at a time, chatting with Aunt Cathy or me before falling back asleep. Yesterday had been much the same, but today, she’d managed to stay awake for several hours, eventually insisting I take a break and get out of there for a bit. Aunt Cathy had arrived, and the two had ganged up on me, shooing me out the door. I’d run home to shower and change and had stopped by The Daily Grind, hoping to get a glimpse of my favorite barista.
I hadn’t meant to ask Finn out. It had just slipped out. I wasn’t even sure what it was about him that I couldn’t shake. There was no denying he was attractive. Those piercing blue eyes paired with his dark hair and pouty lips definitely did something for me, but it ran deeper than that. There was something about the way he carried himself, and in the way he looked at me, that made me want to know more. Combining that with the lines of poetry I’d found a couple of weeks ago, he seemed…lost.
