Page 5 of Wake Me Up (New England Bay Sharks #5)
“Unless he did,” Cane says, walking into the kitchen and straight toward the refrigerator. “His older brother is in my class. He’s a douche.”
Now, Cane I’d expect this from. He’s the one who gets into trouble from time to time. It’s always when he’s been provoked or when he’s sticking up for someone else, but Cash and Avy are my peacekeepers.
“That’s enough, Cane,” I half hiss, half utter. “Ave, tell me what happened. I need to understand why you would think it was okay to put your hands on another person or to hurt them.”
She slouches lower, and her lip trembles.
Cane walks to the front of the table and looks her over. “What’d he do to you, Ave? Tell us.”
“You are not a parent,” I whisper angrily at him. “Go to your room. Or in the living room. Or literally anywhere else but in here with me.”
Before he gets the chance to walk away, like he should, Aviana’s voice squeaks, “He called me a bastard child because he said I don’t have a dad.” She stops. “And he brought up that I pee my pants because of the seizure I had last month in class.”
My heart breaks, not only because a child could be so cruel to bring up her dead father, but because I remember how embarrassed she was when she gained consciousness after her seizure and realized she had wet her pants.
“I’m going to kill his older brother,” Cane growls beside me, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see his body stiffen and his fists ball. “Douchebag kids.”
“Cane, that is enough!” Shooting up from my chair, I poke my finger into his chest. “His brother didn’t do it, Cane. Go. To. Your. Room.” I hiss the last words through my teeth. “ Now .”
I walk around the edge of the table and stop in front of her before kneeling down. “Sweet girl, I’m so sorry that he said that.” And now I understand why you shoved the fucker down. Only I can’t even say that because this still has to be a teaching moment.
“You’re not a …” I pause, swallowing. “That name.”
“A bastard,” she whispers, bringing her eyes to mine. “What’s a bastard, Mom?”
“Well …” I say and stop again. “It’s just a word that boys in the second grade probably shouldn’t use.”
“But he learned it from his older brother, I’m sure,” Cane says, poking his head back in the room, proving he is not listening to me today.
Instead of scolding him again, I decide to just ignore him altogether. Nobody gave me a rule book on this parenting thing, so even twelve years later … I’m winging it.
“I’m just so sorry he said that to you. You have a daddy.” I take her hands in mine. “He’s with you every day. And as for the other part, you have epilepsy, baby. You can’t control that, and you should never be made fun of for it either.”
Inside, I’m equally sad as I am fuming. I want to go punch his mother right in the face, knowing damn well he learned this behavior from the way his parents treated others.
My heart breaks that he told her she has no dad.
She was only two when he died, so I know she doesn’t really remember him, but I try to keep his memory alive.
I show them all pictures, and we celebrate his birthday; a few times a year, his family comes to visit, and we also travel to Florida to see them as well.
“You always say that, Mom. You always say I have a dad and that he’s with me,” she whispers. “But he can’t play Go Fish with me. Or Old Maid. He can’t help me build a fort or watch me dance.” She looks down, shrugging her tiny shoulders. “I don’t have a daddy. Even though you always say that I do.”
It’s moments like this when I really wish their dad were here to tell me what to say to make everything better. He was laid-back, and I’m always afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. Jamie always knew just what to do or say. Me? I never know how to approach it; I just do the best that I can.
“Avy, baby,” I whisper, “I know it feels that way. And trust me, I’d give anything in the world to bring him back. But I promise, he’s looking down on all of us, and he’s so proud.” I give her a tiny smile. “Well, I’m not sure he’d like that you pushed a classmate down, but …”
“I think he’d say that punk deserved it,” Cane chimes in, and I can’t even yell at him because I know he’s right.
Walking around to us, Cane holds his fist out to her, and she taps hers to it.
“That kid is a jerk, Ave. Next time, just come find me. Okay?”
Wiping her eyes with her free hand, she smiles. “Okay,” she whispers before leaning toward me and throwing her arms around my neck.
Kissing the side of her head, I hold her tightly against me. “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too,” she whispers weakly, continuing to hold on tight.
It’s been five years since their dad passed, and even though I try to keep his memory alive, it gets harder and harder—especially with Aviana because she was a toddler.
What’s worse is, she was our third baby, so we took the least number of pictures of ourselves with her.
With Cane, I’d recorded everything. By the time Avy came around, I was lucky to snap a picture of her monthly in her first year of life.
“Whoa, what’d I miss?” Cash says in true Cash form as he walks into the dining room. “Looks a little intense in here.”
Releasing her slowly, I wipe my eyes and look around at my kids. “Well, I was thinking pizza and ice cream. I mean … if you guys are into it. Maybe you want the veggie stir-fry instead—”
“No, no!” Aviana says quickly, putting her hands on my shoulders. “We want pizza and ice cream!”
I grin at her, winking. “I thought so. Because pizza and ice cream make everything better, don’t they?”
She nods her head, and I hold my smile, even though as an adult, I know pizza and ice cream won’t fix anything, but if I can put a Band-Aid on her pain for a little while … that’s what I’m going to do.
And even though I know her oldest brother can be a major thorn in my side, she’s so lucky to have him. She’s lucky to have both of her brothers.