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“I know, I know, sweet girl. It’s okay. I know you’re just doing your best. We’re all trying our best, okay? You’re okay. You’re more than okay. You’re so good,” I promised her, rocking her slightly in my arms as she kept her stare on me. “And you know what? Your mama is good too. She’s so, so good, Reese. And she loves you so much, no matter what. Okay? I just need you to know your mama loves you. She’s trying her best. I promise you, she’s trying her best.”
After a while, Reese faded back to sleep, and I laid her back in her crib. Once she was asleep, I went to head back to bed, but I noticed that the shower was still running.
“Sammie, you okay?” I asked, knocking on the door. My chest tightened when I didn’t get a reply. I knocked louder this time. “Sammie? Are you good?”
I heard mumbles, but still, no reply.
When I turned the doorknob, I witnessed my sister sitting in the bathtub as the water poured overhead. She was rocking back and forth as she scrubbed her arms up and down with her hands, to the point that her arms were reddened from how hard she was scrubbing.
“Sammie . . . ,” I whispered, taking steps closer to her.
“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this . . . ,” she said on a loop, shaking as her tears intermixed with the water droplets shooting down from the showerhead. “I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this . . .”
“Sammie, come on, get out of the tub,” I said, turning off the water.
“I c-c-can’t do this,” she repeated. She stared forward as if she couldn’t even see me. As if she wasn’t even aware that someone was in the same space as her. She looked so far gone that I worried she didn’t even know where she was in that very moment in time.
I couldn’t get her to climb out of the bathtub. I couldn’t get her to snap out of the trance that she’d somehow entered. So I climbed into the tub with her and wrapped my arms around her shivering, naked body. “I want to go home, Emery. I don’t want this life. I need Mama and Daddy. I need them. I can’t do this. I can’t,” she kept repeating.
I pulled her close to me and held on for dear life as she kept her chant going, her whispers stinging my ears.
I didn’t let go until the sun rose the next morning.
29
EMERY
Taking Oliver and Reese to my hometown terrified me. I had a horrible feeling in my gut, and I wasn’t sure how to shake it off. But I tried to look for the silver linings in the situation. I was able to show the two most special people in my life the place that had shaped me. Sure, my parents hadn’t been the best at raising my sister and me, but the small town where I grew up had a few gems.
When we got to town, it was already late into the night, so we checked into the bed-and-breakfast—getting two separate rooms. So when morning came, we were fully awake and ready to hit the town full speed ahead.
First stop was my old stomping ground: Walter’s Diner. Home to the best hash browns a person would ever taste.
“I worked here for three years. I started when I was fifteen, even though I was supposed to be sixteen to officially have a job, but the owner, Walter, let me slide, and he’d help me learn cooking skills in the kitchen with him. By the time I was sixteen, I was the head chef back there, flipping burgers faster than anyone around. It was in this place where I fell in love with cooking,” I said, looking around in awe.
Walter’s Diner was set up as a 1950s spot. From the red-and-white booths down to the old-school glasses that the Coca-Cola and sundaes were served in. The decor was posters of classic sports cars and models and actors from the fifties. They still even had the old jukebox that was spinning tunes from that time period. It was as if we’d walked into a time capsule and taken a seat to enjoy some food and history.
“This is the place where you found your passion,” Oliver commented.
“Not only that . . . this is the place that raised me. When my parents were in their moods and they’d take it out on me, I’d come here. Walter lives in the apartment right upstairs, and he’d always let me in, no matter what time it was, day or night, to teach me some cooking skills.”
“Sounds like an amazing man.”
“I owe so much to him.”
When Walter came out with menus in his hand, I grinned. He was the one who brought each table the menus every single day, because he wanted to know the people who were showing their support to his business. He didn’t only want to feed the people of Randall; he wanted to know how they were doing.
