Kasie West - On the Fence

He grabbed my hand and held it tight in his. This made me more afraid. “Do you remember your dad and your brothers wanted to have a talk with you? About your mom?”

“My mom?” I thought back, trying to piece together the fragments of my ten-year-old memory. I remembered running up the stairs to get to my room. I remembered climbing out my window and onto the roof. I didn’t remember why, though. My head pounded as I pushed my thoughts. My dad had sat me on the couch and started talking about my mom. I do remember my head got fuzzy and my ears felt like they were filled with cotton. I had needed air. That was why I had climbed out my window. “What was he trying to tell me?”

Braden’s voice became soft, his thumb making circles on the back of my hand. “Your dad wanted to tell you what really happened to your mom that night.”

“When she got in a car accident?”

He looked at me hard. “You really don’t remember what he said? If you don’t, Charlie, it’s not my place to say. I just thought you remembered and you needed someone to talk to about it. I thought that’s why you’ve been having the nightmares.”

A gray-haired man with glasses flashed in my mind. I was sitting in a chair with my feet dangling off. I must’ve been young. He had me draw pictures. I drew rain and glass. Red rain. I squeezed my eyes shut. The image of a pale, lifeless hand filled the blackness. “Tell me.”

“Shh. It’s okay.” He pulled me against his chest, and that’s when I felt the moisture on my cheeks. I wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by its presence.

“You’re so strong, Charlie. You’ll remember. I’ll be here when you do.”

Part of me wanted to beg him to tell me. The other part, the part that was still embarrassed by the tears in my eyes, wanted to shut it out and never think of it again. Wanted to get in a car and speed away from my past. His heart beat against my cheek in a steady rhythm. Every beat drew me closer to him. Soon his hand started making lazy circles on my back. This was the definition of torture, I was sure of it—loving someone who only wanted to be your friend.

“I want to know,” I finally said. I felt like I could handle anything with him there.

“Then you need to talk to your dad.”

“He’s working a late shift. I won’t see him until after I work tomorrow. Can’t you tell me?”

“I can’t. It’s not my place.”

Another loud laugh came from the kitchen, and I felt Braden’s gaze shift to the door. I wondered if he wished he were in there with Amber. If he was nervous about Gage spending time with her. The thought was enough to sit me up straight, pushing away from Braden.

“I’m good,” I said, wiping my eyes to make sure they were free of any traces of tears. “I think I’m just really tired. It was a long week.”

“So you probably don’t want to play soccer this afternoon? Your brother organized a game.” He was trying to make me feel better. He thought soccer would help. And it normally would’ve, but right now I wanted to call my dad and find out what everyone seemed to be keeping from me. “I’m sorry. You have a lot to process right now.”

I forced a smile. “Stop reading me. It’s creepy.”

“But you’re like a book. I told you, I know more about you than you know about me.”

Our eyes met. His reference to our fence chats, thrown out there so blatantly during the middle of the day, made my cheeks go hot for a moment. And what was he trying to say with that statement? That he knew what I discovered at camp? That my feelings for him were plainly written all over my face?

Amber’s laugh brought us out of our eye-lock. She poked her head into the room. “Braden, Gage is doing it again. Come beat him up.”

More inside jokes that I wasn’t part of. I stood abruptly. “I need to sleep more.”

Braden grabbed my wrist. “Fence tonight?”

I gave the smallest nod and then went upstairs.

I played with the edge of the quilt on my bed. I’d tried to call my dad several times, but he must’ve been busy, because the call went straight to voice mail. I didn’t feel like this was something I could leave in a message.

Braden hadn’t said a time to meet out at the fence. It was midnight now. Everyone was asleep. But Braden’s room was dark as well. I clutched my cell phone close and lay down, waiting for his text or for my dad to call me back.

The next thing I knew, a ray of sunlight was shining in my eyes. I sat up and looked at the clock on my nightstand. Crap, I was going to be late for my first day back to work. I searched my bed for the cell phone and found it wrapped in the covers. The screen was blank, no missed texts. He must’ve fallen asleep as well last night. Or maybe he had been out with Amber.

On the way down the hall, I poked my head into my dad’s room. He was out cold. I resisted the urge to wake him up, make him talk. But I was already late. It would have to wait a little longer. It had waited years, apparently; what was a few more hours?

“Charlie. Welcome back.” Linda gave me a hug. “Did you have fun?”

“It was nice.”

“You look like you got some sun.”

“Beach running.”

“Ah. If only I could be in as good shape as you are.”

“What are you talking about, Linda? You could kick my trash any day of the week.”

Linda laughed and swatted her hand through the air.

“I’m going to change.”

In the back room, I slipped into my work clothes. They felt comfortable now, even normal. Maybe it was my body I was more comfortable with. My body that I’d been trying to hide behind baggy clothes for years. I was bigger than other girls—taller, stronger—but that wasn’t a bad thing.

I came back out and didn’t see him at first, standing in the corner. Not until Linda nodded her head to the side. I looked at Evan. He checked the price tag of a necklace on a mannequin.

“Hey, Evan.”

He turned and smiled, his eyes lighting up. “You’re back and you didn’t even call me.”

“I was so tired yesterday. Sorry.” I looked at Linda and she nodded, seeming to read my mind. “Do you want to talk in the back for a minute?”

“Sure.”

I led him to the stockroom. “Do you want something to drink? There’s water.”

“No. I’m good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“We need to talk,” we both said at the same time.

He laughed. “Go ahead.”

“No, you go first.”

“Okay.” He looked at the ground then back up at me. I suddenly remembered what he had tried to talk about before I left for basketball camp: our relationship. He opened his mouth.

“I better go first,” I blurted out.

He laughed. “Sure.”

“I’m . . .” Wow, this was hard. I’d never done this before, and I felt bad. I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I knew I couldn’t be with him. My heart just wasn’t in it, and that wasn’t fair to him. Between the supposedly huge secret I needed to pry out of my dad and my feelings for Braden, I couldn’t string Evan along like this. “I’m in a weird place.”

He seemed to sense what was happening and his entire demeanor changed. His eyes became guarded. “Are you breaking up with me?” He seemed shocked. Like this had never happened to him before.

“I . . .” Had we been together? “Yes. I’m sorry. I need to figure things out. Maybe in a few months, when I’m in a better place . . .”

A booming voice sounded from the main room and Evan turned around. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” I listened and the voice came back, angry. “Oh no. It’s my dad.”

“Your dad?”

I ran down the hall but paused right before the sales floor, wanting to know what he was upset about before barreling in there.

“She’s sixteen years old,” he said.

I couldn’t hear Linda’s response.

“I did not give her permission to do this! You should not have let her.”

Nathan must’ve told him about my makeup sessions. I needed to get out there and smooth things over. Only when I entered the room, still unnoticed by either my dad or Linda, I saw how my dad really found out. He held—and was angrily waving—the ad from the bridal store in Linda’s face. Oh no.

And now I could finally hear her. “This is not my ad, sir. You’re going to have to ask your daughter about this.”

“But she did this makeup stuff for you, too.”

“Yes. She got permission from your wife.”

I tried to open my mouth to interject, but before I could, my dad spit out, “My wife is dead.”

I gasped, and both he and Linda turned toward me.

“Charlie, we are leaving. Now,” he growled, then marched out the door.

I could feel Evan over my left shoulder, breathing. He was probably glad he was on his way out of my life after that.

In front of me, Linda just stared. She looked hurt and angry. I guess I wouldn’t have to quit now. Linda would ask me to leave.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

She looked to the door, where my dad had left. “You’d better go.”

I nodded, unable to find any excuse to make this better, and I followed after my dad.

He paced in front of his police car. I headed for the car I’d driven.

“No,” he said, and pointed to the passenger side.

“But . . .”

He pointed again, more forcefully, so I climbed in. The police radio was in the middle of a broadcast, and he turned it down and started the car. “We need to talk.”

“I’m sorry. She asked me about Mom, and I didn’t want to tell another person that she was dead. I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid.”