hurt me. He wasn’t capable of it.
“I was so damned scared that when I began to run, I couldn’t stop. I was scared to face you again. Scared if I saw you, I’d stay and turn into my father.”
Scott swears and holds his hands together as if in prayer. I bite my lip when his voice cracks. “When you first moved here—every time I looked at you I saw the old man. I saw HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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his anger coming out of your eyes. I saw
your father’s bitterness wrapped up inside of you. As much as I’ve hated myself for leaving you behind, I don’t regret it. If I’d stayed I would have never broken free and all of that anger and bitterness I see in you would have been inside of me.”
I know the anger and bitterness he’s talking about. They’re the chains that weigh me down and threaten to drown me daily–at least until I found Ryan. But those chains returned with one phone call from Shirley and they’re slipping tighter around my throat. “Yay for you. You broke free and I got screwed.”
Scott leans forward. “I know it seems that way, but I broke free for you, too. I fucked up.
I should have come back when I signed with the Yankees and dragged you to New York with me. I didn’t and I’m sorry, but I’m here now and this…” He holds his hands out and motions at the house. “This is your break, kid.
This is your baseball. All you have to do is trust me and take it. Whatever you want, it’s yours, but you have to let the past go.”
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Mom. As if I could effortlessly hand over the demons in my nightmares and somehow with the swish of a magic wand, everything would be okay. “What about Mom?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he stares at a thin scar on his right hand where he told me Grandpa had cut him with a knife when he was a kid. “She’s not my
responsibility and she’s not yours either.”
“No. That’s where you’re wrong. Mom is
my responsibility. It’s my fault that she’s miserable.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Whatever. I’ve been thinking, maybe you
could give her some money. We could put her in one of those rehab places and when she’s clean we could move her someplace nicer.
Mom used to work and we could get her
another job. She’s been down for so long and I know she keeps Trent because he has money. If you help her, I’m sure she can get better.”
“I can’t.”
My head snaps back as if he slapped me.
“What do you mean you can’t?” I did it. I came to him for help. I’m trusting him and he’s throwing it back in my face?
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“I made myself and Allison a lot of
promises when we moved to Groveton and
more importantly when I brought you back into my life. Your mother is a line I can’t cross.”
No, no, no, no. NO! This isn’t how our talk was supposed to play out. “But you have to.”
The room becomes suddenly restrictive and I stand. I need to get out. Everywhere I turn there’s a window or an entrance to another room. There’s not a damn door to the outside in this huge fucking room.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott real slowly. “Why don’t you sit back down?”
“You have to help her!” Because I can’t, and the realization cracks my sanity. “Send her to a rehab. Get her clean. She’ll be better then. You don’t understand. She never had a shot. We never had anything. No one ever helped us.”
“I sent her money,” Scott says softly.
There’s a roaring in my head and I freeze midstep. I’m in the kitchen and I have no idea how I made it here. “What did you say?”
Scott walks over to the island. “I sent your mother money every month. I opened a bank account for her and every month she drained it.
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enough to pay for my mistakes. Allison
found the account a couple of months ago and thought I was having an affair. I brought her here, to Groveton, to prove to her that I wasn’t lying about you or your mother and when I got here I didn’t like what I found. So we stayed, but I promised Allison I would cut off your mother. She obviously wasn’t using the money to help either one of you.”
“You’re lying.” I slam my hand against the counter. “You’re fucking lying!” He has to be.
“I can show you the statements if you’d
like.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t…. I can’t breathe. I can’t.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott. “Sit down.”
I try to suck in air, but my lungs won’t
expand. Grabbing on to the side of the counter, I bend over in my search for oxygen. Scott’s wrong. He has to be wrong. Mom would never have done this to me. Never. Why can’t I fucking breathe?
“Elisabeth!” Scott shoves a stool out of the way and catches me as I fall to the floor. He sits beside me as I lower my head into my hands.
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