AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turn to my mom, sitting on the end of the bed as she blinks back the tears. “No more crying,” I tell her, shaking my head. “I’m fine and I’m going to go home soon and in a few weeks it will be like this never even happened.”
I say it to reassure my mom, but I know she doesn’t believe me. I don’t believe myself either. I’m not going to be okay after all this for a long time, but I will get through it.
“You’re the strongest, most independent person I know,” my mom says. “I knew if anyone could have survived that avalanche it was you. And to think, I thought all that skiing you did was a waste of time. It turns out, it saved your life.”
I chuckle at her comment. “I guess something good did come out of it, since I went and screwed up that whole college scholarship thing,” I now say, addressing what has driven a wedge between us all those months ago.
“Water under the bridge, Delaney,” my mom says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “It takes something like this to put things into perspective and let me tell you, I was certainly slapped in the face by perspective.”
Now it’s my mom laughing at her comment, but she’s right. I certainly forgot all about our arguments and the tension that lingered between us.
My dad sweeps open the curtain, coming in like he’s been running, out of breath, but with a huge smile on his face.
“I found your friend Alex. He’s on the fourth floor, room two-twelve. It looks like his dad is in there with him. I didn’t go in, but you should.”
“His dad?” I ask, questioning whether my dad saw things correctly. Maybe it was a doctor or a nurse or even Ethan Morrison.
“Well, the guy was hugging him,” my dad replies with a shrug. “You go up there. Your mom and I will stay here in case the doctor or the nurse come back. We’ll tell them where you are.”
“Thank you,” I say, pausing, realizing I haven’t said this to anyone since the disaster in Vermont. “I love you.” They both echo my sentiments and I know it’s not going to be the last time I say it today.
29
ALEX
“What day is it?” I ask, suddenly realizing I have no idea how long we were missing for.
Dad smiles from the chair beside my bed, which he hasn’t left since I woke up. “It’s Tuesday, the thirtieth of December.”
My eyes widen. “Shit, so we…”
“Were missing for a little over three weeks,” he confirms.
“Wow,” I exhale, shaking my head. “I mean we figured Christmas had been and gone, but we were never really sure what day it was.”
“To be honest, neither was I,” he admits. “All I knew was that every day that passed was another day where I had to face the possibility of…” He pauses, looking up at me. I can see his face is covered in regret and sadness. “I’m so sorry for the last few years, Alex,” he says, continuing. “I know I can never undo them, but I’d really like if we could—”
“It always felt like you’d just replaced her,” I blurt out. “Replaced her and forgot about me.”
He nods again. “I know,” he exhales. “I can imagine that’s how it must have looked, but that wasn’t my intention.”
“I felt abandoned,” I continue, my heart beating a rapid rhythm in my chest. “Lonely.” I don’t even know where these words are coming from or why I’m even saying them. Maybe having a brush with death puts shit in perspective. Maybe having him here, finally acting as though he gives a shit, helps too.
“So did I,” he says. “But I know that’s on me, Alex and even though I wish I could go back and change things, I know I can’t. All I can do is change things moving forward.”
“Are you still getting married?” I ask, glancing down at his hand wondering if maybe he hasn’t already snuck off and done it.
A small smile pulls at his mouth. “I am,” he confirms. “And I’d really like you to be there,” he continues. “Standing beside me when I do.”
“How’d you meet her?” I ask, not answering his question yet. I know next to nothing about my future stepmother, mostly because I’ve never bothered to ask. So as much as my dad thinks what’s happened between us is all on him, I know it’s not. Just like I know that I share an equal amount of the blame for what happened.
Dad gives me a wry smile as he says, “Actually, I met her in a grief counseling group.”
My jaw drops. “You’re in counseling? Since when?”
He chuckles now. “Since you went back to college in your last year,” he admits. “I have a lot of shit to deal with, not just processing your mom’s death but also how I handled things with you, how I’m supposed to try and fix those things. But Jenny, she…well, let’s just say she understood me more than I expected.”
Where once this admission from my dad would have made me angry, now I actually get it. Because it’s the same for me with Delaney. She gets what it’s been like for me, feeling like a fuck up, and she’s done nothing but support me, encouraged me to work through it. And all without judgment too.
