Heavenly (28 page)

drug lord."

Luke snorted. "That's Hank. He's not a drug lord."

"Dealer, lord—whatever. They're all the same."

"No, they're not. So you didn't do anything else? You didn't say anything?"

"Just what I told you. Why?"

"He was so freaked. I've never seen him that freaked before. He was white and shaking and could hardly talk after he

shut the door."

My heart banged. "Seriously?"

Luke nodded. "I thought maybe you'd pulled out a gun or something."

"Where would I get a gun?" A zillion chills raced along my skin,
Matthias.

Luke shrugged. "I don't know."

"Honestly, I didn't do anything to Hank."

Luke scratched the sandy stubble on his chin. "Well, he kicked me out. Told me to never come back again." Luke's

blue gaze locked on mine. I saw both relief and frustration pass over his face. He'd just broken one big link in the chain he carried. I was thrilled.

I kept my expression even. "I can't say I'm sorry about that. How do you feel about it?" I asked.

He lifted a shoulder, crossed back to the bed, looked at his guitar. "I've been hanging at that place for too long

anyway. Those people are so out of it. They don't care about anybody but themselves. Hank's the worst. He won't give you

anything free. Not one eighth. If you don't have something he wants, you don't get anything. Period."

"The Lortabs?"

He looked over, nodded. "I get them from other guys and use them to exchange for weed."

What a web. I was shocked but not surprised at the lengths he'd gone for a hit.

"So, in a way do you think it's a good thing?"

"I can get whatever I want somewhere else, if I want to. Hank just had the best price." He shrugged. He picked up his guitar, brought it against his body. Engaged in the song he was playing, Luke then sat on his bed, continuing to strum the

guitar. I took that as a cue to leave and did.

Abria raced past me, naked and giggling. Mom was on her tail, towel in her hands, stress on her face. I scooped Abria

into my arms, and her damp body squirmed against mine.

"You little stinker," I said, giving Mom a smile. "Want me to get her ready for bed?"

Mom's expression was wary, remnant shadows of our earlier argument still in her eyes. She followed me into Abria's

bedroom. "Were you and Luke talking?" she asked.

"Yeah." I set Abria on her bed and she started jumping. I reached for the towel and Mom handed it to me. Questions

Hashed in her eyes. "Things are better. Don't worry about it."

"I'm glad to hear you two made up."

"No jumping, Abria." I started toweling off her wiggling body. Luke and I hadn't exactly apologized, but we'd talked.

"Yeah. Good girl." After she was dry, I gave Mom the towel and went to Abria's dresser where Mom had laid out one of my tees. "Zoe's tee shirt?"

Abria started jumping again—as if she was on a trampoline—with no idea that she could miss and launch off the bed.

Mom stood close, arms out and ready to catch her if necessary.

I took the diaper and pajamas and crossed to the bed. "Let me take care of this. You go relax," I told Mom.

She took a deep breath, let out a sigh and rubbed the wrinkle of stress away from her forehead. "Okay." She turned

and headed to the door.

I caught Abria mid-jump and held her, meeting Mom's gaze. Mom's lips curved into a quiet smile, then she left. I

dressed Abria amid her bouts of flapping. Followed by bouts of giggling. "All done! Good job!" I applauded and she joined me, laughing.

"Gu jo," she parroted.

"Time for sleep." I gathered her into my arms and pulled back the covers with my free hand. Abria leaned toward the pillow and I laid her down in bed, smoothing the covers around her.

She flapped and the whole bed shimmied. Her eyes were round and vibrant as the sun. "You're not tired, are you?" I

sat on the side of the mattress. Reading to her was an exercise of patience. She rarely looked at a page longer than four

seconds, so distracted by her own need to self-stimulate. Still, Mom was exhausted. Dad needed his down time. I needed to

talk to Dad, but putting it off was okay by me. I had to do something to relax Abria.

Books lay all over the floor. Toys she carried around for a week then discarded from lack of interest also littered the

room. My gaze wound around the walls covered in crayon and permanent ink from her scribbling. White gashes scarred the

paint. The carpet was stained from food and drink she spilled. When she tantrumed, she often threw something, unaware that

the consequence would break or ruin something else.

I let out a sigh. It was hard for Mom to watch the room fall apart. My gaze fell on Abria, tucked in, flapping,

rambling nonsensical phrases and words in a tune with no melody. If I allowed myself, I could fall into the whirlpool of she'll never do this, never experience that, never have this, never know love—that was more than I could bear. I remembered what

Matthias had said to me. "Does she look unhappy to you?"

Contrarily, Abria was happy—in fact she seemed to exist in a never-ending state of joy. A carefree existence I

envied.

"Zoe's going to tell you a story," I began. "Once there was this special princess named Abria." Abria flapped her hands. "She was so beautiful that the king cast a protective spell on her. No one could ever hurt her, or say mean things or treat her meanly. Little Princess Abria grew up in a castle, surrounded by people who loved her, people the king could trust.

She liked Playdough and crayons and little Matchbox cars she could drive around the wood floor. She liked to eat everything

and she liked to jump on everything, too." Abria's eyes opened wide, so did her mouth, as if she was cheering, except no sound came. She flapped again.

"Little Abria's favorite place to go was the zoo to look at all the animals. She especially loved the monkeys—

probably because she liked to climb like a monkey. When nighttime came. Princess Abria didn't always like to go to sleep.

Sometimes, she stood in her window and looked out, which scared the king and queen. So, the king found the bravest knight

in the land." I grinned. "His name was Matthias.
Ma-tthi-as"
Her eyes met mine, held for a second longer than usual. Her lips formed the syllables 'Ma-thi-as.' "That's right, Abria. Matthias. He was strong and powerful, and very handsome." I leaned over her and tickled her under the arms. She didn't burst out in laughter, she turned stiff as though she was trying to figure out if she liked the sensation. "Matthias watched over Princess Abria day and night, to make sure she was safe. He was the

coolest knight in the kingdom. All the maidens thought so."

Again, Abria's lips formed the word
Ma-thi-as
but no sound came. "Princess Abria, are you sleepy yet?" She flapped, her eyes bright. I let out a sigh.
I
could be in here all night.
With Abria, nothing ever tied up neatly. Even bedtime was uncertain.

I leaned across and kissed her goodnight, then stood and went to the door, taking one more look at her. She lay

staring up at the ceiling, tickling the palm other hand, her eyes wide.


SEVENTEEN


I locked Abria's door and went in search of Dad. Nerves crimped my stomach, thinking about apologizing.

Anticipating the act was like swallowing a cup of vinegar.

Luke's door was closed. Through the pipes, water hissed. Mom was taking her bath. I went downstairs, the sound of

the TV indicating Dad was still unwinding. I took a deep breath and quietly rounded the couch. The minute he saw me,

uncertainty crossed his face.

I sat on the opposite side of the couch. "Hey."

"How are you?" He faced me, tuning the rumble of news to low with the remote.

"Good. You?"

"Better. Luke came home about an hour and a half ago."

"Yeah, I noticed. That's good. I talked to him, by the way. We're cool now."

Dad stretched out his right arm along the back of the couch. "Glad you two talked. He seemed better when he came

in. In fact, he apologized for what happened at dinner."

"He did?" The news surprised me. Luke wasn't much of an apologizer. "That's good."

"And he didn't look high. But then what do I know." Dad let out a sigh. ""When I was your age, I knew a few kids who used drugs. My close friends weren't users, so I couldn't spot someone who was high. Here my own son is addicted and

living right under my nose and I didn't see it." He shook his head.

"Dad, everybody has to make their own choices. Luke is no different. Neither am 1.1 admit I liked drinking.
Liked.
I haven't done it in a long time so I don't want you guys worrying about me, okay? I don't plan on doing it again, either. I've kind of had my eyes opened. All that stuff is so stupid. I mean, at first itś fun—or you think it's fun because everyone else is doing it. But when you see how it disables people, how it turns them into weaklings, it's pathetic." In my mind I saw Britt clinging to Weston's sleeves.

Dad nodded. "I think the hardest part of this whole thing for Mom and I is that we trusted you two. It would have

never occurred to us that either of you would indulge in that stuff. And we've talked about how bad smoking and drinking can

be."

I shrugged. "I can't answer that question for Luke, but for me it doesn't matter what else is going on. I drank to drown my problems. Facing problems is much harder."

A line creased between his brows. He gave a thoughtful nod. "Do you want to talk about the problems?"

I took a deep breath. "It's hard sometimes. Seeing you guys so... focused on Abria. Again, I don't know about Luke,

but..." I swallowed. "Sometimes I feel... ignored."

Dad blinked and his green eyes glistened. Pain surrounded my heart. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. But I

felt amazing relief having told him my real feelings.

"I'm sorry, Zoe." I opened my mouth to say, 'It's okay', but he held up a hand. "And don't say it's okay. You're right.

Your mother and I have been completely focused on Abria and you have every right to as much of our attention as she does.

I'm sorry. Everyone wants to be noticed in a family." He let out a sigh. "I'm just sorry I wasn't on top of this a long time ago."

"I know, so don't stress, please."

"Is there anything I can do?"

I shook my head. Though he was offering me his shoulders to carry my burdens, I was determined to carry my own.

"I'm taking care of myself. Don't worry, Dad."

"So what opened your eyes?"

Dad was a religious man, he might even believe me, but he might also think I'd joined some cult or something. Since

our relationship was tenuous, I decided against telling him about Matthias. "Lots of things. Mostly seeing Luke... I couldn't keep drinking, not when my own brother has a serious problem with addiction."

"Do you think you're addicted?"

"Dad, I drank for social reasons. I'm not going to lie—if I hadn't stopped, who knows where it would have ended.

But—it just doesn't appeal to me anymore." My lack of interest in drinking really was a miracle. I wasn't even sure why I felt like I was done with it. Just a few days earlier I'd been intent on going to Britt's and downing some other stash. Now, after seeing her desperate and pathetic, after knocking at the front door of Luke's addiction, the idea of drinking both repulsed and scared me.

Relief passed over Dad's taut features, softening the lines and creases in his face. "You know Mom and I would do

anything to help you."

"I'm okay." Matthias' influence had also helped me, given me something to reach for, a place to elevate myself to.

"Zoe, I want to know where you're going and who you're with from here on out. Can you do that for me?"

It'd be nice having them care enough to want to know where I was. The feeling of security wrapped me in agreement

and I nodded.

"And, is it unrealistic of me to ask you to try to come to me next time?" he asked. "Before you feel like drinking?"

The earnest love in his eyes penetrated my heart. I shook my head, blinking back tears.

"Dad, I'm so sorry about tonight." I leaned over and hugged him. His embrace took me back to childhood: comfort,

complete protection, and unconditional love. "I'm going to keep my mouth shut," I mumbled against his shoulder. "I'm too hard on Luke."

"You care about him."

I nodded and eased back. "Yeah. I care about you guys, too." "We all need to give each other a little more credit." I swiped away tears and nodded. For the first time in months I felt the tight seam that held my soul closed, open just a little.

I woke Saturday to the aromatic scent of pancakes. My stomach grumbled. Out of habit, I rolled onto my side and

reached for the cell phone on the nightstand. No texts. The vacancy left me lonely. I had the sharp prick of panic that Britt had started some lame rumor, one that had turned every person I knew against me.

I let out a sigh. If she chose to do something vicious like that, I'd live.

I rolled onto my back. Matthias's face brightened my mind. I smiled.

Where are you this beautiful Saturday morning?

I didn't expect an answer. All was well in our house. I lay staring up at my smooth ceiling imagining him somewhere

surrounded by other beings such as himself, talking, laughing, spreading that serenity he carried with just one look, or touch.

Did he have friends in Heaven?

Who did he hang with?

I laughed, turned and buried the laugh in my pillow. "You are hopeless. Hopeless!" I kicked off my covers and leapt to my feet, so energized by the mere thought of Matthias that my body surged with the rush his aura swept into me as if he

was with me. I stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door. Beneath my pink sleep shirt, my skin