Page 6 of Can't Walk Away

I walk in the front door and go towards the sitting room that I know my parents will be in. My mother will be drinking her tea as she thumbs through a magazine and my dad will have his nose in his laptop and pouring over sales numbers. Every evening since I’ve been home this is where I can find them any time after seven o’clock in the evening.

I clear my throat and say, “Mom, Dad. I, uh, have something to tell you.”

Jase let’s my hand go, but his other hand is holding me firmly on my hip. My mother narrows her eyes at him, but my father doesn’t seem shocked by it.

“Something you need to tell us Cheyenne Marie,” she says with a sternness. As if I’m a petulant child.

“Yes, I’m moving out tomorrow. Jase is renting his apartment above the shop,” I tell her smiling.

“I bet he is. Is the monthly price included in spreading your legs for a man old enough to be your father?” my mother all but screams.

“Debra!” my dad bellows. I’ve never heard him yell at anyone let alone my mother. I turn my body into Jase’s trying to hold my tears back and not allow her to see my tears. I never knew she could be so vindictive.

Jase wraps me up in his arms, as my dad escorts my mother out of the room while she yells, “I didn’t raise a whore.”

I hear my father say in a hushed tone, “No Debra, that was all you. Wasn’t it?”

“Jase, do you think you can stay here until I pack a bag. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to stay here tonight. I’ll…uh just get a hotel for the night,” I say in one breath.

“Yeah, Chey. Let’s go pack you a bag,” he whispers into my ear as he holds me firmly.

“I’ll just be a minute. You can stay down here if you want,” I counter.

“It’ll be faster if I’m with you,” he suggests and this time he follows me up the stairs to my room. It’s a mess. My laptop is on the bed with my notebooks and pens. I have clean clothes laying on a chair that have yet to be put away and shoes all over the place, along with boxes that I never unpacked.

I walk into the closet and grab my weekender bag and go to my dresser and pack a couple of pairs of panties, bras, tee shirts, and shorts. I grab my cosmetic bag and throw my toothbrush, hairbrush, toothpaste, and a couple of other necessities. I walk back out and see Jase is sitting on the edge of my bed. I drop my bags at my feet and walk towards him.

He grabs my hips and brings me into his lap, so I’m straddling him.

“You know I don’t want you just for sex, Chey,” he says with sincerity in his voice.

“I know, Jase. What my mom said, that’s on her. I’m not a whore, no matter how hard that was to hear her say. I know the truth and I know you wouldn’t use me that way,” I say as I run my fingers up and down his arm with the tattoos he has. The color is varying in different shades of black and grey. There’s meaning behind it. I remember asking about it on the rare occurrence I was home and he was here. He said they were a piece of his mom he carried around with him. The compass to keep him grounded and the rose that blooms around it. She loved roses and he wanted something to remember her by.

I had tears rolling down my cheeks when he told me the story. He truly loved her, part of that reason being she raised him on her own. Something he said wasn’t easy, yet she made it look like it wasn’t a big deal.

“I want you to know I want you. No, I need you, Cheyenne. I waited a long time to have you in my arms. I’m not going to let you go,” he rasps.

“I want you too, Jase,” I say as he kisses me on my forehead. I secretly wanted him to kiss more than just my forehead, but from the yelling going on down the hall. I know that’s our cue to leave.

Jase grabs my bags and leads the way to the front door.

6

Jase

What went down back there, I didn’t see it coming. Phil said Debra would be upset. I get that. I would have expected her to unleash on me. Not on Chey though and to call her a whore. What kind of mother says those vile things to her only child?

We’re at my place within minutes. I could have taken her to a hotel or to her apartment tonight, but I didn’t want her on her own with everything that was said tonight. I knew Debra wasn’t always a great mother to Cheyenne, yet I didn’t know how bad it really was for her. It makes me feel even more like an asshole. I should have seen the signs. Chey wanting to leave as soon as the ink was dry on her diploma. Only coming back because the dorms were closed for fall, winter, and spring break.

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