I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(61)

I still don’t know what exactly my mother expects me to do. But I do offer this: “I’d talk to him, Mom, I would, but he seriously wants nothing to do with me. You saw how he acted at the courthouse the day you guys were out here. The kid hates my guts.”

“Your brother doesn’t hate you,” my mother insists. “He just hates all the stuff that’s happened to you in the past. He’s angry, yes, but I know for a fact Will loves you, honey. Very, very much.”

I hope she’s right even as I mutter, “I don’t know about that.”

“Listen…Chase…” Mom’s voice fades in and out, like some faraway radio station. She must be reaching for an ashtray or something. “If I can get Will to call you, would you talk to him, then?”

“Of course,” I say.

Mom sighs in apparent relief. “That would really mean a lot, sweetie. Oh…and…” She trails off and I know she’s holding something back.

“What?” I ask to prompt her.

I hear the sound of another cigarette being lit, and then, “If Will starts talking to you again…and you can get through to him…what would you think about me sending him out to Ohio to stay with you for the rest of the summer?”

Fuck. My limits are straining. She’s not going to send Will away like she did me.

“Mom…” I close my eyes for a second to keep calm. “The answer to every f*cking problem that arises with your kids isn’t to send them away.”

It’s kind of a shitty thing to say, but it’s true, and Abby needs to finally hear it.

Mom must feel guilty for sending me away six years ago, because she starts talking real fast, like she does when she knows she did wrong. “That’s not fair, Chase. You were out of control when you left Vegas.”

“Sending me away didn’t help, it just made things worse. You thought Gram, of all people, could control me? She was an old lady.” I’m finally letting out what I’ve kept bottled up for years. “You pawned your problem—me—off on someone else and look what happened. I ended up in prison. Yeah, great decision, Mom.”

Mom chokes back a sob. “I told you I was sorry for all that, Chase. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay? How many times do I have to say it for you to finally believe me?”

Mom starts crying hard now, and I feel like a real dick. I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut. She didn’t say she wanted Will here forever, just for the summer. I wouldn’t mind my brother staying here for a couple of months, but only if he wanted. I’d never force him to leave Vegas, like what Mom did to me.

Her crying lessens, but I have to fix what I’ve messed up. “Mom, mom, shh, everything’s all right.” Her breathing hitches. “Look, I shouldn’t have said those things. You’re right. I was out of control back then. I have no one to blame for what happened but myself and—”

“I still gave up on you, baby,” she interrupts. “And I regret it every day. That’s why I helped you as soon as I could.” This is true—my mom did hire the sharp lawyer who ultimately got me out of prison. “I am not giving up on Will, okay? Just forget I mentioned sending him out to Ohio.”

“Mom,” I sigh. “I’ll talk to him, all right? Just get him to call me.”

“All right, I’ll try,” she sniffles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll straighten him out.” I sound more confident than I feel, because what I really feel is sad.

I feel sad for Will, a mixed-up kid. And I feel sad for Mom losing the love of her life, my dad. She got stuck raising two headstrong boys by herself, when, really, she was never emotionally equipped to handle that sort of burden.

I feel like I should have some magic solution to make everything right. It’s unreasonable, I know, but I can’t shake my emotion.

The white walls I painted before Mom called suddenly feel like they’re closing in on me. What I really want is to go to Kay, but she doesn’t need to be dragged into my f*cked-up family situation. I’ve burdened her with enough already, like all my troubled-past baggage.

Mom calms and we hang up, but I feel shittier than ever. I can’t stay in this school a minute longer; I have to get out of here for a while.

I stop by the church office to let Kay know I’m heading home early. She asks me if I’m all right, and I tell her I will be. When she waits for me to elaborate—because sharing our bad, as well as our good, is what we do—I tell her I’ll explain everything later.

My always-understanding girl doesn’t press, she just accepts. What I should do is ask her if she wants to hang out later. Tonight is the start of the weekend, after all. But I really just need some downtime, time alone to put my shit back together. I figure I should be good by tomorrow, so I ask Kay if she wants to do something in the afternoon. Maybe drive up north to the cinemas and see a matinee movie.

This puts a smile back on my girl’s face. I need to hold her, be close, so I wrap my arms around her. I hurriedly check to make sure we’re alone, and then I kiss her like I did yesterday, my lips a little everywhere.

“I want to see you happy, baby,” I tell her as I nuzzle along her jaw. “But I’m just no good today. Tomorrow…” I kiss up to her honey-flavored lips. “Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you, okay?”