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I’m sorry for running.I sent her that text to explain, but it’s not much of an explanation at all. I can’t tell her the truth though because I’m still running, and she’ll stop me.
Just like Dean would.
They can’t stop this from happening. My body stiffens when I see my mother’s last text.
I’m coming to see you.
I start to respond, but what can I say?No, don’t.It’s not like she’ll listen.
When I delete it without hitting send, another text from her comes through.
You won’t talk to me and this has to stop.
What has to stop?I text back.
I know that will make her drop it. Because she can’t admit what happened. She can’t apologize to me for what she did. She can’t speak the truth.
I miss you, she finally answers me.
I wonder which version of me she misses. Probably the younger version. The one that isn’t so fucked in the head.
I miss the old me too. But she’s long dead and has been for years.
DEAN
The beer is cold and the head of it foams just right. It looks like a picture for a beer ad as it sits on the walnut bar of the Iron Heart Brewery on Lincoln and Church.
My back’s to the door as I sit at the far end of the bar, closest to the large glass window. More people walk into the already crowded place, but I don’t pay any attention to the chatter. I only stare out the window at the parking lot across the street.
“You want something else?” the bartender asks me and when I look up at him, interrupting whatever thought was in my head, he nods to the untouched beer.
“Nah, I’m good,” I tell him and take a swig. Maybe I should ask for something stronger. Maybe I shouldn’t drink at all. I don’t know. I don’t know shit and that’s all I know for sure.
“All the way out here?” a voice too close for comfort asks and I turn around to see Daniel sliding onto the barstool next to me.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” he tells the bartender and then squares his shoulders forward and squints like he’s looking up at the menu.
“Some funny names for beer,” he says absently.
“All local drafts,” I tell him.
“Is that why you came all the way out here?” he asks me and I turn my gaze back to my beer and then take another long pull. I’m here because it’s right around the corner from Dr. Robinson’s office. I’m here because it’s easy. The beer’s good, the vibe is right, and everyone here leaves me the hell alone.
“How’d you find me?” I ask him and he shrugs.
“Been barhopping,” he says like it’s a coincidence. I huff in disbelief but I don’t push him. Daniel’s background isn’t exactly sparkling clean.
He slaps down a few five-dollar bills as his beer hits the bar and then he finally faces me.
“She really messed you up that bad?”Going right in for the kill.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer him simply, returning my gaze to the cracked concrete sidewalk across the street. A few people walk by and no one seems to notice it.
“Fair enough,” he says with a nod and then asks for a menu.
“You’re making yourself right at home, aren’t you?”
“I’ve got to eat.”
