Karma Bites (3 page)

As I weave my way through all the aged trees, I think about Mom again. Well, not Mom as much as how she’s going to freak out when I ask her about my dad. Because I am. I wasn’t so sure of it until this second, but I deserve to know and this assignment is the perfect way for me to find out, because the I-deserve-it line, hasn’t worked with her in the past.

Why can’t she understand I
need
to know? If I know something about him, maybe he’ll take us away from this. Better yet, if I can find him, maybe he can fix her.

When I walk up to my house, I notice Mom’s little silver hatchback missing from the driveway, and I run. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I rush inside, locking the door behind me and heading straight up to her room. Today is the day she works late, but it still won’t give me much time, so I need to hurry.

I don’t even bother with her drawers or anything like that. We share clothes so I know if she has anything to hide, I’m not going to find it there. The bed is my first destination. I know it seems silly, but maybe there’s something underneath. I mean, it’s not like I’m ever under her bed for any reason.

There are a couple boxes beneath, so I yank them out. Let me tell you, it’s not easy to look through them quickly while trying not to disturb anything. The first one is filled with old clothes of hers. I go through the stacks and don’t find anything between, so I push it back under.

For a second, I stop. Listen. No sound except my own pulse thrumming in my ears.

I open the second box and start picking through it. My baby stuff: old bibs, shot record, drawings. A minute later that box is closed and pushed under the bed with the first one.

My heart is going to break through my chest at any minute, but I keep going. Now that I’m here, all those unanswered questions are fueling me, pushing me forward even though I could be caught any minute.

I jerk open her closet door. I shove clothes aside, scanning shelves with my eyes, before walking around in a little circle. There has to be something! Why isn’t there anything? I see another stack of boxes in the corner. I push them out of the way, and that’s when I see the small lockbox.

This time, my heart stops. I know this is it. I know there is something inside she doesn’t want me to see. Her birthday is the first code I try. Nothing. I try mine. Still nothing. I know I don’t have much time, but no other numbers are popping into my head. Without much else to go on, I try the first six number of my social security number. Then the last numbers, and the box springs open.

Don’t do this, Abbs. You’re going to break her heart.
But I don’t stop. What about
my
heart? It’s been broken for years.

My baby book rests on top. My fingers shake as I open it, knowing there has to be a reason this book isn’t in the box with the rest of my stuff. It’s the usual stuff in the front, weight, length, time and place I was born. Nothing new there.

I listen again, but still hear nothing.

My fingers flip through the pages and a piece of paper falls out. It’s old, I can tell. I can hardly open it my hands are quivering so badly.

Patricia,
it starts out.
I don’t know how, but I know this letter is from my dad.

I wasn’t sure how else to reach you, but we need to talk. You can’t let your parents come between us. I love you, Red, and I want a life with you. With the three of us. Yes, I know you’re pregnant, though I don’t understand why you haven’t told me. Don’t you know I will love our child just as much as I love you?

Tears leak from my eyes, one after another, playing follow the leader down my face. He loved me. He never met me, but he loved me.

I want to take you away. The three of us, somewhere, anywhere, just as long as it’s only us. We can start our family. You’re eighteen, sweet one. There’s nothing they can do. Let me love you. Let me love you and our beautiful child away from the people who want to tear us apart. Meet me tonight whenever you can get away. I will wait for you. You know the place.

All my love,

C

The letter is ripped from my hand. I whirl around, my eyes stinging with tears. “Give it back!” There is nothing in the world I want more than that letter right now.

“What the hell are you doing, Abigail Cristen?” She’s huffing, she’s so angry, but I don’t care. Her anger has nothing on mine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m looking for answers you won’t give! I want the letter back. It’s from my dad.”
My dad, my dad, my dad.

She turns to walk away, but I step out of the closet to follow her. “I want it. I need it. Can’t you stop being so selfish for one minute?”

Her face pales. I feel as if I slapped her. It takes her a minute to reply, and when she does, her chin quivers. “I’m selfish? You’re the one snooping through my things, looking for information I keep from you for a reason! Don’t you think, for just a moment, that there might be a reason why I haven’t told you about him?”

The reason doesn’t matter. My face is wet and my heart is in pieces.

Mom’s voice is softer now. “Did you ever think I don’t want you to get hurt?”

“Then stop hurting me!” I yell, unable to control my words. “No one here is hurting me but you. I need him.
Something
of him. Why can’t you understand that?”

Now she’s crying too. Each tear takes another dent from my armor. I don’t want to fight with her, but I need this. I need something to hold onto in my crazy life. Something normal.

She tosses the letter at me. “Take it.” Mom walks to the kitchen with me on her heels. I clutch the letter like it’s a part of me. I won’t let go of it. But something keeps pushing me forward. Heat sizzles inside me and I need more.

“I want to know his name. Who he is. Where is he, I want to find him.” I’ve wanted this for so long. These words have played on my lips since I was old enough to understand someone was missing from my life and now that I’m speaking them, I can’t stop.

“No,” she says without turning to look at me. She’s putting dishes in the dishwasher, like we’re not having an emotional breakdown here.

“Yes! He’s my dad and I want him. I’ll keep digging. Nothing will stop me from finding him now that I know he loved me. I don’t care what I have to do to find him!”

Mom whips around. “He’s dead!” Her words echo through the house, slicing me open. “You can’t find him, Abby because he’s dead. He was killed by vampires when I was pregnant with you. Is that what you want to hear?”

I can’t breathe. The kitchen is spinning. My legs are weak, about to collapse at any second, but that doesn’t stop me. I run.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--”

Her words cut off when I slam the door. I’m dizzy, but I keep running. Down the street and to the woods, where I can get lost. I want to pretend this didn’t happen. That my dad isn’t dead and Mom didn’t create an alternate reality to deal with it. Because that has to be it, doesn’t it? Did they run away like he wanted? Did they kill him because of her or me? Does she feel guilty and this is how she deals with it?

My head pounds with Mom, dad, vampires. I’m a jumbled mess, staggering through the crowd of old, thick trees. Leaves litter the ground, flinging up and around my feet with each step I take.

When I see the over-sized tree, my steps slow and then stop. I lean against the tree and slide down, pulling my knees against my chest. The letter is still squeezed tightly in my hand. I can’t let it go or look at it, knowing the man who loved me is gone.

I don’t know how long I let my tears flow. I don’t even care that I’m crying twice in two days, that all this gave me enough tears that I don’t think they’ll ever stop. I just cry.

“You okay?”

I know the voice coming from my left, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“Um, hello? Anyone home? I asked if you’re okay.” Caleb waves his hand in front of my face.

Today, his words annoy me. “Yeah, I always sit around crying like this.
Jerk.
” I mumble the last part. If this were any other day, I probably wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence. I definitely wouldn’t be so sarcastic with him, but this isn’t any other day.

Caleb looks down at me, and I’m not even in awe of his looks. But then he gives me a smile. A real one and I’m proven wrong; both sides of his mouth
do
work and when they do, it’s a knockout smile. It somehow takes away some of the pain.

“I’m taking your sarcasm to mean you’re sort of okay. Maybe you should try using that sharp tongue on someone like Stacy and her bitchy friends instead of me.”

To my surprise, he sits down next to me, leaning against my tree.

“Been a rough day.” It’s all I can say. How could I even begin to explain to him the train wreck that is my life?

“Yeah, I can tell.” Caleb pulls out a cigarette and lights it. I know I’m cringing. I hate cigarette smoke.
Hate
it. He’s ruining my fantasy of him right now.

“Smoking’s bad for you, ya know? Have you ever read the statistics of how many people die from cigarette related illnesses every year?” I’m going to regret this tomorrow. It’s not every day your secret crush talks to you. Giving him statistics on how he’s doing to die probably isn’t the way to handle it, but I guess it’s better than being speechless.

I wipe my eyes and notice I’m not crying, but then Caleb laughs at me and I feel like crawling in a hole and not coming out. Ever.

“Thanks for the health lesson, but I don’t need it.”

He takes a drag and I wince. I think he sees, because he shrugs as if saying sorry. My head drops back and I try to focus on the scent of the bark and wood instead of Caleb’s smoky cancer. For the next couple minutes we don’t speak. He sits there smoking and I’m trying not to:

A) Think about my mom back at home and what she told me and

B) Focus on the fact that Caleb’s leg is touching mine. Kind of. Almost. Close enough.

My palms are sweaty and I can’t help but think about the letter inside my right hand. Fear seizes me that I’ll ruin it and I jerk my arm up to stuff it in my pocket.

“Ouch. Watch the elbows, ninja.” Great. Now I’m going to become the schools ninja vampire. I can’t believe I just elbowed him.

“Sorry.” My heart starts doing a nervous jig because his arm is now leaning on mine and he’s not moving it! This isn’t the close call like our legs, but skin to skin and he is warm and soft in a completely manly way.

“Sorry about Billy today. He’s kind of a prick.”

I try not to focus on our arms when I look at him. “Then why do you hang-out with him?”

Caleb only shrugs as if Billy and those guys are his only option.
Hello! Pick me!
Maybe Billy isn’t the best subject. “Um, so why are you…I’m not trying to sound ungrateful or anything, but we pretty much never speak. What made you stop to talk to me?” Because you said you don’t care…

He doesn’t look at me, just focusing on his cigarette when he replies. “You were crying. I felt like taking a rest. Thought I could do it here.”

When he mentions my tears, it brings the afternoon flooding back. Mom is crazy. My dad is dead. Even though I’ll lose contact with him, I move my arm so I can feel my pocket to make sure the letter is still there. “Oh.” I’m afraid I’ll start crying again.

“Did Cavanaugh do something to hurt you?”
Puff, blow.

His words fill me with equal parts embarrassment that he knows they torture me, and something warm and tingly that he sounds upset about it.

I shake my head. “No, she’s a bitch, but I can handle her. Kind of. I could handle her much easier if she didn’t always have reinforcements.”
Shut up, Abby!