AFTER THAT LOVELY EXCHANGE with Ashley, I spent the rest of the night in my room hiding. I lay in bed and stared at the one part of my room Ashley had gotten to—my ceiling. She’d painted over my mother’s hand-painted constellations. The witch had done it while I recovered in the hospital. My mother used to lie in bed with me for hours staring at the ceiling, telling me Greek myths. Having few good memories of my mother, I despised Ashley more for stealing the one I had.
The knock on my door at 11:30 surprised me. The rule of thumb in the house required me to apologize first. Ashley probably wanted to show me in person why my current dresses wouldn’t work. No need to prolong the inevitable. “Come in.”
I bolted upright the moment my father walked in. He never came to my room. The first two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned and his tie hung loose. Worry lines were carved around his tired eyes. He looked old. Too old to be married to a twenty-some-odd bimbo and too old to be having another baby. “She’s sorry, Echo.”
Of course he’d come on Ashley’s behalf. God forbid anything in this house not revolve around Ashley. “Okay. My apology will have to wait until morning. I’m a little beat.” We both knew what a cop-out that was. I’d be lucky if I slept for an hour.
Surprising me even more, my dad did something he hadn’t done since I came home from the hospital—he sat on my bed. “I’m going to contact your social worker. I don’t think this new therapist is working out.”
“No.” I said it too quickly and my dad caught on. “I already told you, I like her. She’s easy to talk to. Plus you said that you’d give her another try.”
“I know things between you and Ashley have been tough since you found out about our relationship, but you’ve been lashing out at her more than normal. She’s pregnant. I don’t want her under stress.”
My big toe began to rock. Would it kill him to love me? “I’ll try harder. Just let me keep seeing Mrs. Collins.” I needed to give him a reason to back off. “She’s the one that convinced me to focus on my friends and to date.” Lie.
Some of the worry lines disappeared. “I don’t think that’s her. That’s you. I’ll leave it alone if you try harder with Ashley. She loves you. And you used to adore her.”
Yeah, when on her eighteenth birthday, she let me stay up late and eat popcorn at the age of six or when she let me wear makeup on my first day of fourth grade. Crazy thing happened—she slept with my father and then left my family drowning in a wake of destruction.
“If you really want to show me you’re trying, let her take you dress shopping. She had a whole day planned and is devastated that she upset you. Let her have fun and I’ll drop the SAT retake.”
I raised an eyebrow. My father never negotiated. “Really?”
“The next SAT date is too late for your application deadlines anyway. We’ll have to work with what you got. Your scores should be good enough to get you into some of the best business colleges in the state.”
He typically said accounting, but he must have caught me wincing whenever he said the word. “I’m happy you’re back with Luke and even happier you’re going to the Valentine’s Dance. You loved getting dressed up and going to dances. I thought maybe that part of you died.” He stared down at my sleeve-covered arms. “I have to say, you’ve really made me proud.”
No freaking kidding. I made straight A’s, did whatever he said, and he’s proud of me for going to a dance. Let’s see, if he came to my room over a Valentine’s Dance, maybe he’d do something crazy for prom, like tell me he loved me. My father patted my knee and rose from the bed.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you ever check on Mom?”
The worry lines returned. “She’s not my responsibility anymore.”
“Then is she mine? I am her only living relative.”
A muscle in his jaw jerked. “Your social worker would never allow that and neither would I.” His eyes softened, his jaw unclenched. “Are you scared she’s going to hurt you? She will never hurt you or anyone else again. Don’t worry about her.”
But I did. My mother might be crazy and she’d tried to kill me, but she was still my mom. Someone should take care of her, right?
NOAH
I’d seen my brothers. Who knew a miracle could occur? And I’d get to see them again on the second Saturday of February. This called for a celebration. I hoped Isaiah got some weed because I planned on rolling the biggest damn J any of us ever saw.
Last to return for the night, I parked my piece of crap on the street. Dale worked swing shift at the local truck plant. We didn’t know from one day to the next what hours he’d work. I’d made the mistake of parking in the driveway once. Instead of moving my car, Dale took out my driver’s-side mirror.
Lights blared from every window in the house—not a good sign. I stepped into the tiny living room and noticed towels covered in blood. “What the f**k?”
Isaiah appeared instantly by my side. “The bastard beat the shit out of her.”
“I’m fine.” Beth’s voice trembled. She sat in the kitchen with her arm extended on the table. Her aunt Shirley cleaned several cuts and cigarette burns.
Beth’s entire body shook like a seizure. The right side of her face was bruised, scraped and puffy, and her right eye swollen shut. Blood soaked her favorite T-shirt. She raised the cigarette to her mouth and sucked in a long draw. “Mom’s new f**k wears a class ring. He must have stolen it from someone.”