The Final Piece (25 page)

“He had my baby girl out all night doing God knows what to her.” Heat rises from my toes all the way to my scalp.

“
Stop it
!” I yell, sending every head turning to me, “I’m sorry if you were worried, but I’m twenty five-years old, Pops. It’s a little late to be concerned about my virtue.”

Hot humiliating tears streak down my face. This is not what I had pictured when I got home. Ryan wraps an arm around me and kisses the top of my head; I’m so glad he is here.

“You should know that ‘doing God knows what’ entailed telling your granddaughter that I’m in love with her. No disrespect, sir, but anything else is none of your business.” Ryan squeezes my shoulder and clears his throat, waiting for the next onslaught. “We did let Melissa know where to find us—it’s not like we disappeared.” Ryan shoots Aunt Melissa the stink eye.

“I told them, sweetie. Everything is fine, Pops is just slower than the rest of us to warm up to you two finally being where you belong.” Her smile is sweet and sentimental. “We just stopped by to check in and let Ryan know that we’re headed out to Cumming to get some of Tommy’s things after we drop off Casey and John at the airport. We thought it would be good for him to come with, that’s all. We didn’t mean for it to seem like an ambush.”

“Oh.” Dumbstruck, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You should know, Pops, I love him, too.” Pops’ mouth twitches and tears glisten in his eyes. “Let’s go sit on the swing for a minute,” I turn to Ryan and gesture toward the porch.

Once we are outside again, I let out the breath I’ve been holding. Ryan pulls me into a hug and lets out his own ragged sigh. “That was intense,” he exclaims. I snicker into his chest, “It’s not funny. I thought he was gonna go get a shotgun.”

“I should spend some time with him—he worries about me. You should go with Rob and Melissa. We’ll catch up later on, okay?” I promise.

“Is it crazy that I don’t want to go without you?” he murmurs against the shell of my ear.

“Me too, Ry, but I should talk to Pops and then I should call my roommates and check in. It’s only a few hours, right?” I try to reassure him, but I don’t want him to go either. Growing up with parents completely codependent on one another has taught me the value of being able to stand on my own two feet. If a little bit of healthy distance is a good thing, then why am I already missing him?

Chapter 42

Pops has been one of the most influential men in my life. Tommy taught me about unconditional love through the way he showed it to me. Uncle Rob taught me integrity in the way he stood his ground and insisted that my parents get sober. Pops taught me the value of a family that sticks together, no matter what. He stood by all of us while we picked up the pieces. He made sure my mom knew how much he loved her without excusing what she did, and he held me up when I was certain that my life was over. He showered me with as much love as I could take, until I was strong enough to stand on my own again. I watch him thumbing through a photo album at the dining room table and I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

“What’ve you got there?” Before I join him at the table, I wrap my arms around him and kiss his wrinkled cheek. The smell of his tobacco and Irish Spring fills me with the familiar comfort of home.

“I’ve got
you
, baby girl,” he smiles, deepening the lines around his eyes, “always will.” The album is opened up to my school picture from Kindergarten. The little girl in the photograph has long brown ponytails and a sunny smile that doesn’t meet her eyes; they’re blank, lifeless orbs staring at the camera. I swallow a painful lump in my throat when I realize the most vivid memory of that year was meeting Drew. I eye Pops warily, wondering where exactly he’s headed down memory lane. He flips back a few pages to a picture of me as chubby toddler. “You were the happiest baby.” He strokes the photo reverently. “Your smile and sweetness were something else, you had everyone wrapped around your chubby little finger.” He turns the page to a picture of me sitting on Tommy’s shoulders laughing, “You were four in that picture, it was taken right before your mama told us you were moving to Miami.”

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest as he turns the page back to the shot of me in Kindergarten. The difference is painfully obvious, gone is the joy that radiated from my face, and in its place a forced mask. Even at five years old, I was learning how to slap on a happy face and muddle through. Pops flips two pages ahead to my school picture from second grade. My ponytails are gone and a short bob cut replaces it. My smile is wide and toothless but still as hollow as the one before. “When your mama called Gran and told her that you had cut all your own hair off, we knew something was horribly wrong,” his voice crackles over his statement, “we just never knew how wrong.” I sit paralyzed in my chair as fear grips me by the throat. Pops and Gran never knew what Drew did. I was always so scared that Pops would go after him. I pull in a shaky breath and wait for him to continue, “Tommy told us, Beth.” I shatter into a million pieces. “He knew it wasn’t right for him to keep it from us, once you told him how Drew abused you.” My lungs suck in air, but I can’t breathe and sweat trickles down the center of my back, “That’s why I was so angry when Melissa told me you were at the lake house with Ryan. Yesterday, you left the cemetery hysterical. You were out of your mind with grief and I only let Ryan take you because I thought he’d bring you back here. When I got home and you weren’t, I was terrified. Then Melissa told me that you were with Ryan, and I blew a fuse. The thought of you being in a position to be taken advantage of broke my heart,” he huffs, trying to hold back his tears.

“Pops, I have loved and trusted Ryan since I was fifteen years old. It could very well be the soundest decision I’ve ever made in my whole life. I’ve spent the years since Miami running from the past instead of dealing with it. I have a shiny new life with wonderful friends who have no idea who I am.” My breath hiccups when Les and Cyn come to mind. “I’ve hurt a lot of people I care about, pretending and keeping them at a careful distance. Ryan is the one person I don’t have to pretend with.”

“Have you told him about Drew?” Pops’ question hangs heavy in the air.

“No,” I confess, “I’m going to, but I couldn’t tell him on the day of Tommy’s funeral.” Pops gives me an uneasy look.

“Don’t wait to talk to him, baby girl. There will never be a good time for that conversation, you’ll wait forever on the perfect moment.” He sighs, placing his hand over mine, “I love you, Beth. If he makes you happy then I’m happy, too.” Pops’ words resonate in my mind as I thumb through the rest of the photo album. At the back of the album, there is a picture of Tommy, Ryan and me at the lake. Ryan has his arm around Tommy on one side and I have mine wrapped around him on the other side. By the look of us, I’d guess I was around eleven years old, making Ryan thirteen years old. Pops’ is right, there will never be the right time to tell him—I’ve just got to do it.

My phone chirps from inside my pocket. The display shows a text message from Cyn:
Thinking of you. Miss you. <3 C&L

“Excuse me, Pops. There’s a phone call I need to make.” I stand, kissing his cheek and head out to the porch swing. Staring at the phone in my hand, I wonder where I should start. Just as there is no perfect time, there is no perfect conversational lead in. I flip through my contacts until I get to our home number, hoping both Cyn and Les will be home; I hold my breath while it’s ringing.

“
Beth
!” Cyn answers on the second ring and the sound of her voice already has me choked up. “
Les
, Beth’s on the phone.” That answers my question about whether I’ll catch them both.

“Can Les pick up the phone in the other room? I want to tell you about Tommy.” When Les picks up the other phone, I tell them about the night Tommy rescued me from Drew’s advances. They listen aptly as that story bleeds into the years that Drew abused me. When I am through, there is an awkward silence on the other line.

“Wow, babe. I can’t believe you went through something that awful and turned out so well adjusted,” Les’s remark makes me laugh.

“Says the girl who tells me daily to stop closing myself off.” I laugh.

“True story,” Cyn chimes in.

“Don’t laugh at me, you cows,” Les teases. “It just always seems like people who are victimized like that end up pretty messed up.”

“Are you surprised I’m not draped around a pole in panties?” I giggle.

“That’s so cliché,” Cyn adds.

“No, I’m not surprised. I’m in awe. Your strength is unreal.” Les’s voice thickens with emotion. I wish I was there to wrap an arm around her, like she’s done for me so many times.

“Leave it to Bradshaw to break the mold. B, you are amazing. Seriously. Consider my mind blown,” Cyn says.

“BOOM. There goes my mind too,” Les adds.

“I’m still me,” I insist. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Your past doesn’t change who you are, you idiot,” Cyn scolds. “Now, when are you coming home?”

“Well...” I trail off. “I’m not sure.” I’m greeted with a chorus of shrieks.

“Spill it,” Les shouts.

I’m overcome with a sudden case of shyness. I’m afraid they’re going to rain on my Ryan parade.

“Remember Ryan?” I mumble.

“Are you kidding?” Cyn’s voice peps up at his name.

“This is gonna be good,” Les snickers.

“Umm...” I giggle nervously. I have no idea where to even start.

“For the love of Pete,” Cyn complains. “Please tell me you got laid after all these years pining.”

“
Cyn
” I squeal.

“Oh yeah! She totally got laid,” she answers.

“And at a funeral,” Les playfully scoffs. “Beth, you saucy minx!”

“Shut up, both of you,” I laugh. “Seriously, I’ve loved him since I was fifteen. I don’t want to hear any grief.”

“Does he love you?” Cyn asks.

“Yes, he does and we’re going to take things a day at a time, so no interrogations, okay?” I plead.

“We just want you to be happy, that’s all,” Les reassures. “So, is he a hottie? Send me a picture!” Les purrs into the phone. For a second, possessiveness over Ryan flares at the thought of my gorgeous friend near him but as much as I trust Les, I also trust Ryan’s feelings for me.

“Mmm…I bet he is, corn-fed Iowa boy and all,” Cyn coos. “So, tell us everything! Does he have a big…”

“
Cyn
!” I shriek. Cyn and Les cackle on the on the other line.

“What? You’re the pervert, I was going to say ‘heart.’ Does he have a big heart?” She snickers.

“He’s gorgeous, smart, funny.” I smile as Ryan’s truck pulls into the driveway. “Hey girlies, speak of the devil, he just pulled up. Call you back later.” I hang up the phone with loud protests still coming through the earpiece. The smile on my face drops the second Ryan steps out of the car, holding an envelope in his hand. From the look on his face, I know exactly what it is.

Chapter 43

Ryan’s face is a mixture of rage and fear. I can’t imagine what my face suggests but I am petrified. He stalks toward me, his eyes never leaving mine and leveling me with their intensity. My lips tremble as I struggle not to cry when Ryan holds out Tommy’s letter.

“Who is Drew, Beth?” Ryan’s voice is deceptively soft as his whole body radiates suppressed anger. “And before you accuse me of stealing your letter, I have been at the memorial to help pack up the things that people left for Tommy. I didn’t even know it was from you until I was half done.” His temper flashes, but he quickly reins it in when he sees my tears.

“Ry,” my voice quivers as his eyes lock with mine. Any hint of affection is gone from his eyes, replaced with fury. “Let’s go for a drive, and I’ll tell you about Drew, all right?” He stomps down the stairs with long strides, making me scurry to keep up with him. We climb into the truck and anxiety flares up my spine when he won’t look at me. My hands shake so badly, I struggle with my seatbelt. “Maybe we should go back to the park. It was so easy to talk there.”

“Easy?” Ryan shoots me a mocking look and goes back to staring straight ahead. When he pulls out the driveway and heads toward Legion Park, my only thought is—I can’t lose him.

Ryan parks in the same spot we did the other day and strides toward our tree without giving me a second glance. I have no choice but to dash after him. Tears already leak down my face as I beg him to slow down.

“Ryan, please wait,” I whimper, “let me explain.” He turns on me so quickly I bounce off his chest.

“Explain what, Beth? Explain who the fuck Drew is? He sounds awfully important in your confessional to Tommy. Are you in love with him?” Ryan’s face contorts in pain when I laugh.

“No, Ryan.” I am afraid but resolute when I catch his gaze and hold it. “I am not in love with Drew. Drew was the person Tommy beat the crap out of when he tried to molest me in our living room in Miami.” Ryan’s mouth hangs open, as he is struck stupid with my revelation. “Kristy and Drew were my parents’ best friends and Drew had a penchant for young girls.” Ryan’s face turns green as he sinks to his knees in the grass; although I want to console him, if I don’t keep going I’ll lose my nerve before I can purge the last of it. “He sexually abused me from the time I was five until I was twelve and they moved away.” With the words out of my mouth, my chest shakes as I start to hyperventilate. Ryan’s arms are around me in a second.