The Line, page 21
I’d pressed the hat and the picture close to my chest and cried my eyes out. I’d been sick with grief. I still was.
Momma Lou’s forehead wrinkled in concern, and she sighed. “Why don’t you come inside, baby? So we can talk.”
I bit my quivering lip to still it before saying, “No. There’s nothing to talk about. You lied to me.” A lone tear slipped down my cheek, and I used the sleeve of my flannel shirt to angrily wipe it away. I hadn’t wanted to cry in front of her. “You all lied to me,” I accused.
She tilted her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. I’d seen her do this too many times to count. It was her way of gathering every bit of patience she could.
She finally looked back at me before saying with too much patience, “Everly, I’d like to answer all of your questions, but I wish we didn’t have to do it in the front yard. Come inside.”
“No,” I said again. Yes, I was acting like a child, but I thought I was doing pretty well at keeping my shit together. I hadn’t once stomped my foot or raised my voice.
Momma Lou rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her hip, and I knew I was in for it. “Girl, get your skinny ass in this house right now.”
“Fine!” I yelled, stomping past her, my attempt at keeping my shit together gone in the wind, damn her.
She closed the door behind her and demanded, “Sit.”
A few of the children greeted me with hugs as I made my way over to the worn, blue couch that had been there longer than I had.
“Everyone out for a bit,” Momma Lou said to the children. “Y’all can say hi to Everly in a little while. We need to have a private chat right now.”
Everyone left and we were finally alone, the room too quiet, the mood beyond tense.
Momma Lou sat in the arm chair across from me, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. “Ask your questions, Little Bird.”
I huffed at her practicality. How unflustered she was. How could she be so calm in the face of my turmoil? Didn’t she know my pain?
Rubbing my back pocket, I checked for my picture before asking, “Why’d you send me there without telling me?”
My heart thundered in my ears as I awaited her answer. Maybe Momma Lou didn’t love me like I’d thought she did. Maybe she didn’t care for me at all. Maybe she just wanted to be rid of me just like everyone else.
“Because you never would have gone, Little Bird,” she said so bluntly, so unemotionally, that I wanted to scream at her. “And then you never would have met Joe and loved him so much. And you sure as hell wouldn’t have your Cole.”
She was right. I probably wouldn’t have gone. I would have been too scared. Too insecure. And let’s face it. Even now, after having known Joe and caring for him, I was still so damn angry that he hadn’t found me sooner. That he’d stopped looking in the first place.
But all of that still didn’t change the fact that she had taken that choice away from me. I should have been the one to decide if I wanted to see Joe. Not her.
“That wasn’t your call to make!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air.
She nodded. “You’re right. It wasn’t.”
She just sat there all composed, her hands still folded in her lap, and here I was, screaming and throwing my hands in the air like a maniac.
“You don’t even care!” I cried, fresh tears running down my cheeks. “You don’t care how this has hurt me.” I buried my face in my hands, angry with myself for letting her see me cry. And hating this new me. The me Joe and Cole had brought about. I hated how vulnerable I was. Jesus, I was so hopeless—powerless. It was terrifying. I rocked back and forth on the old couch I’d sat on a million times, sobbing.
“I care,” Momma Lou said.
I looked up and found her on her knees, in front of me. She grabbed my hand, folded it between hers, and laid them in my lap.
“I care so much, Little Bird.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Which is why I’d do the same thing all over again.”
Her eyes pleaded with me to understand, but I just couldn’t. Why would she put me through this again if given the choice? Couldn’t she see how raw I was? How emotionally beat down I felt?
I averted my gaze, but she squeezed my hand, so I brought it back to hers.
“I love you, Everly. I wanted more than anything to find your people. You deserve a family. I have a friend at the state. I had her dig around in the state’s hospital medical records. I didn’t actually think she’d find anything, but she did. And I wanted you to meet Joe without the anger, the reservations. Without the solid walls you throw up at anybody who wants into your heart. Joe and I both wanted your relationship to have a fighting chance. We felt it was the only way. And I’d do it again because it worked, baby. I heard the light in your voice when you called. You love it there. You love him.”
The truth shone in her eyes, and I hurt with it. She was right. My walls had crumbled, and I hated it.
“It doesn’t matter,” I sobbed, my shoulders shaking. “It’s over. Done. I can’t go back there.” I shook my head.
I’d told Joe my darkest secrets and he hadn’t even blinked because he’d already known. He’d had the perfect opportunity that night to tell me everything, yet he hadn’t. How would I ever trust him?
“Oh, baby.” Momma Lou wrapped me in her arms, and I breathed in her coconut scent. “What oftentimes feels like the end is just the beginning. Some of those times, it’s the beginning of something really great.” She squeezed me hard. “Sometimes, all it takes to keep from breaking, Everly, is just bending a little.”
I snuggled into her, gripping my hands together behind her back. “I don’t think this is one of those times, Momma Lou,” I whispered into her coarse hair, defeat evident in my voice. But I needed this hug like I needed air.
She leaned out of my embrace and looked me in the eye. “That’s not what Cole tells me.”
“You’ve talked to Cole?” I asked, shocked to my core. My cowboy had called my Momma Lou. I felt all wiggly on the inside at the knowledge.
She smiled. “Every day for two weeks, that boy has called me trying to find you. I think he wants you to come home, Everly.”
“I don’t have a home,” I snapped. And that had been true most of my life, but saying it now felt all wrong.
Momma Lou smacked her teeth and grabbed my face in her hands. “Look at me when I say this, girl.”
I did because she didn’t give me a damn choice. She held my face firmly in her grip, with absolutely no give.
“Home isn’t a place. It isn’t a thing. It’s the feeling people give you when you’re with them. That’s home, Little Bird. Now, look at me and tell me that Cole isn’t your home,” she demanded.
Cole, Joe, Cody—they all gave me that feeling. And I wanted them. I wanted to go home. I just didn’t know how.
I did what I had done every night since I’d left Preston’s. Three weeks now since I’d seen my cowboy. I lay in my twin bed at Momma Lou’s and pressed the green button on my phone, the green glow from the screen lighting the dark bedroom.
His voice came over the phone like warm honey, sweet and rich, and I immediately melted into the stiff sheets beneath me. There might have been three other kids sleeping in the room with me, but each night, when I pressed the call button, it was just me and my cowboy.
He didn’t even bother with the traditional “not available” messages anymore. He just dove right in.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot today, Eve. I consider myself a patient man, but I feel like you might be pushing it a little.”
Patient, my ass. I smiled into the phone.
“You sure are missing a lot around here. Something big is going on with Beau and Cody.” He sighed. “If you come home, I might tell you.” He stopped talking for a moment.
He was resorting to gay-cowboy bribery. I hissed a quiet laugh and closed my eyes, pretending I was there with him.
“Jane is holding my quarters hostage again. Seems her good mood disappeared with you.”
He did this almost every night, catching me up on everything at Preston’s, but he never mentioned Joe, and I wondered if maybe he knew I wasn’t ready to hear about him yet.
“I wish I could hear you throw me some snark. I miss it.” He gave a dry laugh. “Well, really, I just miss your voice. I reckon I’d settle for anything at this point. Won’t you leave me a message just this once?” He sounded sad, and my smile fell.
He did this every night too. He wanted me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t ready to go back to Preston’s, and I knew that was the only thing he wanted to hear from my lips.
“I know. Play me a memory. Anything.” He paused. “I’ll play you one, okay? An eye for an eye. That way, when the phone beeps, you can play me one.” The desperation in his voice almost made me want to cave.
Almost.
“You, Eve. Just you. You’re my favorite memory. You in your rocker on the front porch every morning, waiting on me to walk up those steps. You and those ridiculously adorable songs you sing in the shower. You cooking me bacon in my kitchen, with my socks pulled to your knees. You smiling at me. Not just any smile though. The ones you give only me, the smiles that cover your entire face all the way from your chin to your hairline. Those are my favorite. Just you.”
I buried my face in my pillow to keep my cries from waking everyone. As far as I knew, Cole still called Momma Lou every day. He knew where I was. Momma Lou had said that he was giving me the time I needed, but I still had my doubts about Marla.
“But I don’t want to play you anymore, baby. I don’t want you to be some memory I carry around in my heart. I want the real you. Here. Now.” Despair dripped from his words.
I loved how much he wanted to see me as much as I hated it.
He cleared his throat, but his voice still sounded strained. “Marla is dropping Grey off to see me today. And then she’s leaving. You hear what I’m saying, baby? She’s not staying. Not ever again.” A frustrated sigh hit my ears. “Fuck, I just wish you were here.”
He wanted me to come home. He wanted me. And it scared me to death.
Two weeks later, I’d eased back into my life at Momma Lou’s like I’d never left. My life fit here like an old glove. It wasn’t extraordinary like my life at Preston’s, but it was safe—predictable.
I finished my shift at the shelter and took the bus home, so tired that I almost fell asleep before my stop. I walked to the house from the stop with my back aching, wishing I had my giant bathtub at the big house to soak in. Wishing I had a lot of things from a month ago that I didn’t anymore.
I stepped up onto the stoop, grabbing my keys from my bag. Then I stopped short. There sat Joe and Missy on the front walkway of Momma Lou’s little rundown house, and they’d never seemed so out of place in their lives.
Joe looked me over from head to toe. “Everly,” he said as hello, but I couldn’t manage one for him.
I was too shocked to see him. Joe didn’t travel too much and not very far at all. His condition made it hard for him to do long road trips.
“Hey, Everly.” Missy waved awkwardly.
I snapped out of it. “Hi, Missy.” I smiled awkwardly, well, because this whole thing was awkward as hell. What were they doing here?
She reached over for a hug, and I couldn’t help but hug her back. I’d missed her nosy, meddling ass.
“Missy, can Everly and I have a moment alone?” Joe spoke as Missy pulled out of our embrace.
She gazed tenderly at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Sure thing, honey. I’ll go wait in the van.” She squeezed my hand as she walked by.
But I was hyper-focused on the man sitting in his wheelchair on the front sidewalk. My father. He looked different now that I knew that. I could see all of our similarities laid out before me like a map, and I wondered how I’d never pieced it together before.
I searched around, hoping like a teenage girl with a crush that Cole had come with him.
“He’s not here,” Joe said. “He doesn’t know we’re here. We thought we’d make a quick day trip out of it.” His words sounded grand and brave, but he just looked sad and withdrawn. Joe’s big personality and body seemed so small and fragile right then.
“Why are you here, Joe?” I questioned. I didn’t want to prolong this whole uncomfortable, painful conversation anymore.
He studied me for a beat before answering bluntly, “Because I miss you, Everly. Because I’m sorry for so, so many things.”
A tear tracked down his cheek, and I turned away. I couldn’t bear to see him cry. It broke my heart all over again.
He didn’t care that I wouldn’t give him my eyes. He just kept going, and every word pierced my heart.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t keep looking for you. I’m sorry that, when I finally found you, I didn’t tell you the truth. But I knew you wouldn’t want to see me. I wanted to give us a fighting chance, you and me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, but I don’t regret it because this summer has been the best in my entire life, and it’s all because of you.
“I love you, and you’ll always have a home at Preston’s if you choose to. And, even if you don’t, I’ll still love you. Nothing will change that, sweetheart. Not ever,” he finished, and I panicked.
No. He’d hurt me again. I couldn’t be with these people I loved so intensely. They had the power to destroy me. I’d spent my life so isolated, so unloved, that I was like thin glass: One tiny pebble could shatter me beyond repair. I couldn’t let them break me.
“You need to go,” I said though my tears, rubbing my sweaty hands on my pants. I couldn’t do this. I looked around in panic, my whole body strung tight.
He would hurt me again. He’d decide I wasn’t good enough and he’d leave me. I couldn’t believe him. He was a liar.
“Please, Everly. Just—”
“No, Joe. Leave!” I screeched. I pushed past him and unlocked the door, my hands shaking around the keys. I closed it behind me and ran upstairs to my room, thankful none of the children were in here. I closed myself behind the door and locked it before sliding down and sitting on the floor.
I had myself a good ol’ pity party, my hand pressed to my aching chest for about an hour before I heard a soft knock. I stood up and wiped the damn tears off my face. I was so over this crying thing.
Momma Lou was on the other side of the door when I opened it.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asked, but it wasn’t really a question. She wanted to talk about it, so we would.
“Talk about what?” I played dumb because I was sick to death of talking about it. It, as in everything. I was talked to damn death. Old Everly never would have stood for this nonsense. All this talking and crying. It was ridiculous.
She pushed her way past me into the room and sat on my bed. “I saw what happened, Little Bird. I saw it all.”
“And?” I asked, looking past her. I couldn’t stand all of the emotion in her eyes.
“You love him,” she stated.
I didn’t say anything. I only stared at the crack in the wall behind her head.
“If you love him, why can’t you forgive him?” she asked.
That question just pissed me off. How dare she decide what I should forgive?
“Forgive what?” I yelled. “Forgive him for letting my mother run off and take me with her? Forgive him for not finding me? Forgive him for lying to me?” With every word, my voice got louder.
“You know what I think, Everly?” She stood up and got in my face. “I think you’ve already forgiven that sweet man who has been dealt a raw hand in this life.”
I flinched, the reality and truth of her words slapping me in the face. God, it stung.
“I think you forgave him the minute you knew.” She pointed her finger close to my face.
I backed up and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to hear this. I couldn’t stand it.
“I think you’re running scared. You love him and Cole and that special farm you talk about so much that you’re terrified. You’re so terrified you’re gonna lose them that you’ve already thrown them away. And that’s no way to live, Little Bird. You can’t be running scared of everything you love, or you’re gonna miss out on all the best things in life.”
I wanted to deny everything. I wanted to scream at her and tell how wrong she was, but I didn’t because it was all true. I was so scared. I’d never loved anyone like I loved Joe and Cole. I’d never had the love of someone like that, either. I didn’t know how to love and be loved. It was a frightening concept, how these people held my heart in their hands. I couldn’t handle it if they threw my love away.
“Snap out of it, baby girl. You’ve never been a victim. Stop acting like one now.”
I spent the afternoon and night hiding in my room, but I didn’t feel hidden. I felt exposed and bare, like Momma Lou had somehow ripped me wide open and, now, my insides were hanging out for everyone to see. And I didn’t want them to, so I stayed in my bed, wallowing and absolutely hating myself for it. I didn’t even turn on my phone that night and call Cole’s voicemail.
“You haven’t called in two days.” He sounded irate. “Is this what you’re doing now? Pretending the summer didn’t happen? Hoping I’ll just go away? Don’t do this to us.”
Guilt washed over me like a tidal wave, and it threatened to submerge my already sinking ship.
