Wanting You

didn’t want ya to hurt, and I didn’t want it to be an excuse for you not to come home.”

“That wouldn’t keep me away. Is she with him?” I already knew the answer; I just needed to hear the words.

“Yep. And their kid. Your sister.” I groaned. I knew I had a five year old sister. Grams didn’t keep that from me, but I had no connection to her since dad moved away right after he split from mom.

“Grams, I can’t do this,” I whispered.

“I know it’s hard, my girl, but it is what it is. Your daddy didn’t make good choices and let me tell you, I’ve had a hard time getting over what he did to you girls, but it’s in the past. You should get to know your sister.” Grams’s eyes were soft, but firm.

“I don’t know about that.” I hadn’t known a lot of things when I left—only that my mom was having a mental breakdown.

“The kid’s innocent.” I knew deep down Grams was right. Even now, having the sister I’d always wanted, I couldn’t help but think of all the hurt the whole situation caused my family.

“Grams. I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t have to do it today. Just think about it. And be prepared if you happen to see him downtown.” Grams patted my shoulder and then squeezed it slightly.

“What’s he up to these days?” I knew I shouldn’t give a shit, but he was my father.

“When he got back, I don’t know how he did it, but he bought the laundromat and carwash in town. He runs them,” she said as she stirred the pot.

“Wow. Guess he’s back to normal, huh?” Dad was always involved in something. It never failed, he was trying the next best thing.

“Guess so. Are you?” Grams’s voice was incredulous. I knew she only wanted the best for me, but she made it difficult to answer her.

“I’m fine.” My voice was low and quiet.

“You will not lie to me, young lady,” Grams’s stern voice had me turning toward her.

“Sorry, Grams. It’s part of me that I have to deal with.” Not really. I hadn’t done well dealing with the first year being in California. Mom’s constant badmouthing and my anger from having to move ate at me, making me hate him. But as time went on, I started seeing things differently and not with rose colored glasses. It didn’t make it any easier.

Grams stopped stirring the spaghetti noodles and got right in my face. “You’re giving him and your mom control. You need to take it back.”

“What?” I asked her, stunned by her abruptness.

“You are giving him the control of your life. You have to figure out how to deal with it,” Grams said as if it were the most common knowledge in the world.

“Grams, how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“As much as I don’t want to say this, maybe talk to him. You’ve grown up. Maybe he can explain himself.” I didn’t think there was anything that he could do to explain his actions.

“Ha! Grams, he cheated on Mom and left us. Now, I’m not saying Mom is innocent, but he left me.” The hurt from those words broke my heart. I went from having a dad who loved me and spent time with me to … nothing.

Grams’s eyes bored into me. “You do remember that he was with you up until Annabelle decided to leave, then you didn’t have contact.”

“It’s what he wanted. He just wanted to be rid of us,” I whimpered, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“Savannah Marie. Stop that. Your momma’s been feeding you shit for years, stop eating it.” I stared into Grams’s eyes searching for the answers I didn’t think I’d be able to find.

“Grams,” I whined.

“Don’t Grams me. You need to deal with this.”

Wiping my arm across my eyes, I wanted to end this conversation. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. What can I help with next?”

Grams stared at me as if the wheels in her head were turning and she wanted to tell me what they were saying. She didn’t. Instead, she said, “Peel the carrots and slice them. I’ll let it go … for now.”

“Thanks.” Grams’s words swirled around in my head. She had never steered me wrong, but I thought I was doing okay without my dad. I hadn’t talked to him in years and tried not to think about him either. He never called so I assumed he didn’t want anything to do with me.

“So, since your father’s off the table, let’s talk about this boy you like ... Deke? Right?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I really don’t want to talk about him either. And don’t act like you don’t know him.”

“Oh, I know him all right. He was splashed all over the papers for months for getting kicked off the police force. But, if you ask me, that drug dealer he beat up deserved it.”

“I read about it.”

“He’s done good for himself, especially after everything he’s lost. Brother. Mom. Shame,” she said, shaking her head.

“His mom overdosed. Right?”

“Yes. Such a shame what happened to that family. First, Jaxson in the creek. Then his mom trying to cope by using drugs. It’s a surprise that Deke turned out pretty decent.”

“Grams, he got kicked off the force. How is that decent?”

“He got cut for beating up drug dealers. You can’t say that’s bad.”

“True.”

“So, tell me.”

I should have known Grams wouldn’t let it go. “I hurt him. He won’t say that, but I did. I just left him after Jaxson’s death and only wrote him a letter saying bye. It was wrong.” My leaving Deke couldn’t have come at a worse time. His brother had just drowned two months prior, and he was getting so much backlash from everyone around him.

“I don’t know what to do, Vann.” Deke’s voice was soft.

“I know.” Stroking his hair softly, he laid his head in my lap. These were the best times. For two months, we had been coming here. I knew that Deke was doing it out of grief, spending time with me, but I took it and held on to it with all my might.

This time with him had been the best of my life and how morbid was that when he was going through so much pain. But I couldn’t lie; I loved and craved every second of it. All these hours every night deepened the feelings that I had for him.

Deke hadn’t paid a lick of attention to me in school. Sure, his parents and mine had cookouts, and we were forced to see each other at those, but he never gave any indication that he wanted to spend time with me outside of those times.

Then the night that Jaxson drown, Deke came to my bedroom window tapping on it repeatedly. He scared the living shit out of me. Rushing to the window, Deke stood below, his clothes a mess, half falling off him and only wearing one flip flop.

When his eyes met mine, my heart broke. He had been crying, his face a tangled mess of runny tears and puffy eyes. Lifting the window, I asked, “Deke, what’s wrong?”

“Jaxson’s dead. I killed him.”

“What?”

“He’s gone.”

“Hang on.”

Throwing some clothes on, I motioned for him to climb through the window. He did so without a word.

“What happened?” Deke sat next to me on the bed and began telling me the horrible details of his brother’s death. I listened to every word that came out of his mouth, wondering the entire time why he chose to come to me.