Something about her reminds me of Doc Jones. How we have always known we can trust her, even with the deepest of secrets. The confessions that woman holds in her heart would probably kill a lesser person.
“Mandy, tell me, do you have trouble accepting compliments?”
I think back to all the times Dalton’s said something about how beautiful I am, or he’s tried to sneak a hand around my waist and pull me in tight to steal a kiss. More often than not, I rebuff him. Not because of him, but because of me and my feelings. It strikes me too that he wasn’t doing it very often before we got pregnant and lost the baby. Maybe because I’d laughed him off or made him feel unwanted so many times, but the problem was really me. It’s always been me.
“Yeah, I have an awful time accepting anything I’m not in control of. My first thought when someone says something nice, is they’re doing it because they feel like they have to.”
“Do you tell people nice things because you feel like you have to?”
I slowly blink. “No, I tell them those things because they’re true.”
“Then why would you be any different?
“Because so many people have left me.”
I fall back on that abandonment badge I sling around whenever it’s convenient for me.
“They left your twin too. It wasn’t about you, it was about them.”
“Realistically I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from purposely pushing people away.”
She stops as I say those words aloud, smiling brightly. “Say that again, Mandy.”
“I purposely push people away.”
“Why? Why do you do it?”
The answer is right on the tip of my tongue. Truth is, it’s always been there, I’ve just never wanted to say it because it makes me look like I’m a selfish person in my eyes. “If I push them away first, if I hurt them first, they don’t get to have a chance to hurt me,” I whisper.
“Yeah, that’s why you don’t say I love you, why you don’t take compliments well, and why you tend to be a loner even in a huge family like what you have. If you keep to yourself and never give them a piece of you to take…”
I interrupt her. “I get to keep all the pieces of myself and control what I give to who and when. But that’s the problem.”
“Why, why is it the problem? We’re so close to something here, Mandy.”
“I don’t ever give it,” I cry again. “I don’t ever give any of myself away, and the people I do love are left with a tiny sliver of the real person I am. Meanwhile, I constantly think I’m a problem and continue to retreat into myself, so that I don’t feel like a problem.”
“There you go. Now we know the problem and we can work on it.”
Her words echo in my brain as I sit back against the couch, emotionally drained.
Could it really be that easy?
Chapter Three
Dalton
In the first decade of Walker’s life, I’ve never had to go to school to pick him up - that was always something Mandy managed. Either she’d take care of it, or arrange for someone else to. We’ve always been good at splitting everything when it comes to the day-to-day, and anything having to do with Walker’s health fell to her. His safety fell to me.
So I don’t know how to handle this.
Having to get him at school two days in less than a week.
Especially when he’s sick and hurting from missing his mom.
I’m driving the shop truck when I come to a screeching halt in the parking spot reserved for parents at the front of the school. About the only thing I do know is he probably shouldn’t be on the back of my bike if he has a fever.
I drum my thumb on the steering wheel, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do. How am I supposed to handle all this shit by myself?
It’s what Mandy’s been doing, isn’t it?
My fucking subconscious taunts me.
It’s what she wanted.
I taunt it back.
Now I’m realizing I should have fought harder. I should never have let her push me out of our lives so easily and that’s my fault. Every time she’s asked for something, I’ve given her what she wants, because I want to make her happy. Now though, I’m wondering if she pushed me to see how far she could.
Instead of being a supportive husband, in essence I left her alone to deal with some of the hardest times we’ve ever faced as a couple.
That thought is sobering. Especially as I sit here outside this school, unsure of what to do for my son.
Just go in and get him. You can figure the rest out later.
I almost hear her voice telling me to get off my damn ass and make a move. My mouth tilts in the faintest hint of a grin. What I wouldn’t do to hear her smart mouth right now.
Getting out, I hunch down into my jacket. The weather has taken a turn today. What started out as nearly warm has turned blustery, with pieces of snow spitting out of the sky. I don’t even know if I sent Walker with a jacket. What a fucking couple of parents we are.
I’m familiar with the office, so I go there, waiting for someone to notice me. The secretary who does has her face shielded from me when she asks if she can help.
“I’m Walker Barnett’s father. He’s sick and I’m here to pick him up.”
Her head jerks up, her eyes wide. And I understand why when recognition hits me. She’s a dancer at Wet Wanda’s. I’ve walked her to her car numerous times when I’ve been working protection there. I can literally see the thud of her heartbeat on the side of her neck.
“I’ll get the nurse to bring him up.” The words are clipped and she turns her gaze back down to her desk.
There’s a don’t ask, don’t tell policy at Wet Wanda’s. We don’t ask about their lives outside of there, and they don’t tell us. There’s a part of me that wants to tell her, her secret is safe, but it feels inappropriate.
Just as I’m thinking too much about it, the door opens and in walks my son.
“Dad.”
He slowly walks over to me, hugging me tightly around the waist. At almost eleven, he had stopped doing this for the most part, but since things have gotten worse with Mandy, he’s become very clingy.
“Hey, how you feeling?” I run my hand along his forehead. It’s hot as hell.
“He’s got a fever. I would suggest you take him to the doctor. There’s a lot of things going around this time of the year.”
Glancing up at the nurse, I nod. “I’d rather be on the safe side.”
“Exactly.”
It’s a process to get him checked out for the day and to go ahead and get his homework for the next two. He has to be fever free for twenty-four hours before they’ll let him come back, but more than anything, I think Walker needs to stay with me. Getting him better is my top priority, and I more than anyone, know what he’s been through. It’s enough to make us all rundown and susceptible. By the time we’ve made it out to the truck, I’m already exhausted.
My eyes travel to the clock on the dashboard. It’s a little after two, and I haven’t even called the doctor’s office yet.
“Walker, do you know where Mom keeps the important numbers?”