Pieces of My Heart (10 page)

Nine

“Jade, honey, it’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Parks embrace was as warm as ever, but there was a hollowness to her voice.

“Mrs. Parks.” I squeezed her tightly and held on longer than I normally would have, trying to sooth the longing in my heart for her. I didn’t bother asking how she was. She’d only tell me pretty lies, and I already knew the truth. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, sweetie.” She pulled back, but didn’t release me entirely, running her fingers through my hair and studying my face as though she were trying to reacquaint herself. “I’m so sorry I haven’t called. I just . . .”

“It’s okay. I understand.” After all, I hadn’t called, either.

“Well.” Withdrawing, she plastered on a smile more plastic than that of a Barbie doll and rubbed her hands together. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved.”

“Good. When Cal told me you were coming over for dinner, I whipped out some of my best cookbooks and picked the most fattening meal I could find. You look like you’ve lost even more weight since I last saw you. Have you been eating alright?”

I could have asked the same about her. She looked smaller than I remembered. Not just thinner, though she’d definitely lost weight, but tinier. Frailer. She didn’t stand quite as tall. Her presence didn’t fill the room the way it used to.

“I’m okay. But I do miss your cooking.”

“Jade, you’re here.” An unexpected warmth soothed some of my nerves as Caulder strode down the stairs to join us. “Good timing. Mom made chimichangas. My favorite.”

“Of course they are.” Mrs. Parks’ hair swept across her back as she turned to face her son. She wore it down and straight. No curls, no styling. As far as I could tell she wasn’t wearing any makeup, either. Her tone took on a note of teasing, but even that sounded false.
“The recipe calls for an entire block of cream cheese and deep frying.”

“What’s not to like about that?” Caulder hooked an arm around my shoulders and escorted me toward the dining room, trailing his mother.

He appeared to be in high spirits, but his tense grip on my shoulder screamed discomfort and the look in his eye questioned if I could feel it, too.

I could.

The entire meal was . . . off. Like a well-rehearsed play. Everyone doing and saying what’s expected of them, but none of it genuine. The conversation fluttered around and I couldn’t get a grasp on it. It was like no one wanted to talk about anything too deep, so we just bounced from one superficial topic to the next with short, awkward pauses between. I watched Caulder take it all in stride and wondered if this was what it had been like for him for months.

A part of me ached for him. And for Kiernan. His family was falling apart. It would destroy him if he could see them this way. I wished I could be the one to put it back together—for all of them—but my decision was made. It was time to stop torturing myself with delusions of grandeur.

I wasn’t their savior. And they weren’t mine. I was eighteen. It was time to stop believing in children’s tales. There was no Prince Charming. No Fairy Godmother, waiting to grant my wishes and come to my rescue. I’d come today because I’d made a promise to be there. And because I needed a chance to say goodbye. But this was it. This was the end of my fairytale.

There was a sort of comfort to be found in surrender. In
choosing
to give up the fight rather than be defeated. And that’s exactly where I was headed, straight into defeat. I couldn’t keep this up, this dual life. This charade. This lying. To Caulder. To Mrs. Parks. To
myself
. I didn’t want to.

“Stay right there. We have something else.” Mrs. Parks reentered with a fresh stack of plates and forks, which she set on the table

“Something else?” To eat? I didn’t think I could possibly fit one more bite. I’d explode.

“I know we’re a little late, but . . .” She slipped into the kitchen where I heard the banging of cabinets.

Caulder loitered in the corner where he was doing a terrible job of hiding the mischievous smile curving his lips. My stomach knotted. They were up to something. Something completely wonderful. And it was bound to gut me.

He flipped the lights off just as his mother returned and suddenly the room was lit only by the tiny candles dancing on top of the two tier cake she carried. “Happy birthday to you . . .”

Caulder joined in as they drew closer to the table and slid the cake in front of me. I couldn’t breathe. I just sat there, staring at it long after the chorus ended.

“You have to blow them out or we’ll all be eating wax,” Caulder informed me.

Sucking in a staggered breath, I blew gently. A few candles went out while the rest fluttered and remained lit. I tried again and this time managed to extinguish them all.

Mrs. Parks turned the lights back on and I had no choice but to let a few tears fall before I could see clearly the piece of edible artwork laid out before me. It was amazing. Painted in light blue icing, it had swirled white borders and an image printed across the top.

I recognized it immediately. Taken last year at Christmastime, all of their smiling faces beamed up at me. Caulder and Mrs. Parks. And Kiernan. And my mother.

I pinched my leg in a desperate attempt to keep from crying. Not only had they remembered and gone out of their way to celebrate, but they’d found a way to include everyone I loved. My heart swelled for more than just the cake and the time and the thought that went into it. These people knew me. This amazingly wonderful family knew me better than anyone else on Earth. And still they accepted me. Loved me.

“It was a couple weeks ago, right?” Caulder drew up beside my chair, watching me closely. “I’m sorry we missed it.”

“No.” Swiping at my cheeks, I took a deep breath to try and compose myself. “No, I . . . I’ve never . . .” Sealing my lips, I was suddenly uncertain I wanted to share that sad fact about my life.

I didn’t have to. Caulder did it for me. “You’ve never had a birthday cake.”

The surprise was gone from his tone, unlike at the pool. He was getting to know me well enough that I doubted much would surprise him anymore.

Except for maybe the truth.

“Not even this year?” I understood Mrs. Parks’ confusion. She wanted to blame my mother’s poor parenting on lack of sobriety, but as far as she knew this last birthday had passed with perfect abstinence.

I didn’t want to burst that bubble. “We had . . . ice cream.”

In truth, I couldn’t remember what I’d had because I hadn’t even realized it was my birthday until a few days after when I happened to notice the date on the work schedule. Michael had just popped up out of the blue and things were a little bit crazy. They still were.

“Well there’s no better cake than birthday cake.” Mrs. Parks’ smile looked strange, as though she’d forgotten how and was trying to relearn. “Here, you make the first cut. It’s good luck.”

My hands shook as I lifted the large knife. How could I do this? How could I cut out the only good part of my life? It felt like I was taking that blade and sinking it deep into my own heart.

But wasn’t that what I was doing every time I let them in? Lining up the knife only to fall on it the moment they were gone again? What kind of masochist did that voluntarily over and over again to themselves? Wasn’t it better to just cut them off once and be done with it?

It would make my life a lot less confusing. If I survived. The question was, was I strong enough to go through with what very well might turn out to be a fatal plunge?

The burn of suppressed tears lit behind my eyes as I lowered the knife. It slid through the decorative icing easily enough, but stuck in the cake. Applying more pressure, I felt a crunch and blackened crumbs tumbled out.

“Oh, dear” Mrs. Parks claimed the knife and sliced away a chunk of cake. “Oh no. I don’t know what happened.”

On the outside, the cake was stunning: bright, happy colors, pretty pictures, smiling faces. But on the inside, it was charred and destroyed. The perfect representation of my entire life. And it hit me like a punch to the throat.

“I had to order it from the bakery because I couldn’t print the picture here. They must have overcooked it.” Mrs. Parks continued to fuss over the burnt pastry, but I could barely hear her.

I gasped, the flood of unexpected emotion clogging my airway. I couldn’t be there. Couldn’t do this. I was too close to the edge. Too close to falling over it. To giving in to my most selfish desires.

The chair screech as I shoved it back from the table, stumbling out of the room. I was losing control. I needed to get out of there. Find somewhere to lock it down. Hold it together.

Caulder didn’t give me that. “Jade?”

“Leave me alone.”

He didn’t. He followed me straight down the hallway and right out the front door. I needed the fresh air. Needed to breathe. I needed a minute. Just one minute to—

“Jade!”

“Leave me alone, Cal. Please. Just for a minute.”

“No. I’m not leaving you anywhere. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Frantic, shallow breaths were starting to make me lightheaded. I needed to sit down. I needed to think. I needed—

“Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. I couldn’t think or breathe or see straight
with him standing so close.

I couldn’t
hide
.

“Just go away! I don’t want to talk.”

“If this is about the cake—”

“I don’t give a crap about the cake, Caulder. I didn’t ask for the goddamn cake! I didn’t ask for you! Or your mother! Or your friggin’ help! I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t—” My hand flew to my mouth as shame stained my cheeks. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Cal. I didn’t mean—”

“No. Don’t stop, Angel. Let it out. Whatever this is . . . it’s been building up in you for a long time. You have to let it out. I can take it. Give it to me.”

“No.” This was all wrong. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “I can’t—”

“
You can!
Angel, please.” Desperation made Caulder cling to my arm. “It’s killing me, seeing you like this. This isn’t you. Something’s wrong. Something’s
been
wrong. I kept waiting, hoping you’d tell me on your own, but I can’t stand it anymore. Please, Jade, talk to me. I swear to you, I can take it. Let me take it.”

“I can’t.” The pressure in my chest grew to unbearable proportions. It felt ready to explode and the harder I tried to fight it, the tighter it got. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

A sob so hard it buckled my knees tore from me and I would have hit the ground if Caulder hadn’t been right there to catch me. He lowered me gently to the gravel drive and I buried my face in my hands as he knelt in front of me. Tears cut scalding paths down my cheeks, pooling in my palms.

I tried so hard to be strong. To give back a little of what had been given to me. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t strong. I was weak. I couldn’t help anybody. I couldn’t even help myself.

“Jade,
please
.” He was begging. Caulder Parks was on his knees, begging me. “Just talk to me. I’m here. I’m right here.” Warm fingers threaded through my hair and hooked around the back of my bent neck. “Let me in.”

“I can’t do it.” I couldn’t keep lying to him. I couldn’t keep pretending things were alright when they weren’t.  “I can’t do it, anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” His fingers tightened around the back of my neck, forcing my head up with his gentle strength. “Angel, look at me.”

He left me little choice, but I wished I hadn’t the moment our eyes connected. His face mirrored everything I felt inside. Pain, fear, torment. It was too much. Too raw. Too exposed. Too vulnerable.

Him.

Me.

Both of us.

Together.

All I did was cry, but it was the most honest thing I’d done in a long time.

My eyes slid shut and my head dipped toward the ground. I would tell him the truth. I had to. But I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye as I exposed everything I’d been fighting so hard to keep hidden. “It’s my mother. She’s drinking again.”

The hand around my neck squeezed for a moment and released me.

“How long?” His voice sounded even, but I could sense how much it cost him to keep it that way.

“Since Michael showed up.”

A long silence stretched between us—long enough that I couldn’t stop myself from taking a peek. Maybe he’d abandoned me. I wouldn’t blame him. I’d been lying to him about everything for a long time.

Caulder stared down at me, his features so hard they looked carved from stone. He was furious.

“I’m so sorry. I know I lied to you and—”

“Stop. Just . . . stop.”

I shut up. I wouldn’t want to hear anything more from my mouth, either, if I were him. Caulder shut his eyes and took a couple deep breaths. When he opened them again, some of the stone had melted away.

He shook his head and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not
you
that I’m angry with, okay?”