Peace in a Storm

21 - Audrey

"Princesa?" Papa's voice echoed through the house as I gently shut the front door behind me. He poked his head out from the kitchen doorway, and he offered me a kind smile. "I just finished dinner. Come in and eat."

I set my backpack down near the door and kicked off my sneakers. I padded across the carpeted floor, sneaking a peek out the window at Max's figure walking down the street. I'd tried to convince him to come inside and eat dinner with us, but he was adamant that he had an errand to run. After his altercation over the weekend, the thought of him being out alone made me nervous. Who knows what would've happened if his father hadn't fired off that warning shot. With Max cornered against the wall, the other boys could've done some major damage if they wanted to. I hated that all I could do was sit and scream for them to stop. I wished I was brave enough to try to fight them off - to help Max get some leverage on them. But, my body was frozen in fear. Tommy and his crew had appeared like phantoms, and I feared there were more hiding in the shadows.

In the kitchen, I sat down at the kitchen table, my stomach rumbling at the sight of the plate of shrimp alfredo and garlic bread. Papa sat down a can of orange soda in front of me, pecking a soft kiss on my head as he did so.

"How was your day?" I asked as he sat down across from me.

"Good," he replied simply. "How was yours?"

"Long," I admitted. "I've been so tired lately. Getting through the school day alone is tough, but then going to work or helping Tony after school is just torture."

He tilted his head. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"Because of the nightmares?"

I shrugged. "Kind of."

"Come on, princesa, talk to me. You're not going to be able to get any sleep if you don't talk about what's bothering you."

I sighed. "There's just a lot going on right now, Papa. Between Max and school and my mom..." I slumped in my seat. "My thoughts are just so loud, and they won't be quiet."

"What are your thoughts saying?"

"Well, I keep thinking something bad is going to happen to Max. I know he wasn't phased by what happened over the weekend, but that was scary. Those boys could've seriously hurt him. He thinks it's over now, but I don't know... The Crips don't take well to being disrespected, and I'm afraid they're going to attack him again."

"Have you talked to Max about this?"

"Yes, and he just blows me off! Either he doesn't care or he doesn't understand how serious this can become if they don't let it go. He tells me he'll watch his back, but... I just want him to be safe, you know?"

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Of course; he's one of my best friends - no matter how much he jumps on my last nerve."

Papa chuckled. "Are you two still just friends?"

Blood rushed to my cheeks. "Um...for now...I think..." I averted my eyes as my father's grin grew mischievous. "Why do you ask?"

"I've seen the way the two of you have been looking at each other lately. I was just making sure I wasn't out of the loop."

"Oh, yeah...we're still just friends...I think..." I twirled a noodle around my fork. "He didn't ask me out yet, but he did tell me that he loves me."

Papa choked on his sip of soda.

I giggled as he coughed, trying to ease the uncomfortable sensation in his throat. "What's all that about?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm just - well, I'm surprised, that's all."

"Why? Do you think he's lying?"

"No, no, princesa. Benny and I thought we had a few more years before he finally confessed."

My brows came together. "Wait, you knew about his feelings for me? How?"

"Because it's written all over his face whenever he looks at you." A smile played on his lips. "He can't take his eyes off of you even if he wanted to."

Butterflies fluttered against my ribcage from his words. I hid my smile with a bite of pasta.

"It's alright to be concerned about him. But, I have faith that Max will be alright. He may be crazy, but he's resilient." He took another sip of his drink. "What else have you been thinking about?"

The tickling sensation in my stomach immediately vanished as the storm clouds moved through my mind. "I've been struggling with deciding whether I want to see my biological mother. Everyone I've talked to thinks that one conversation is going to heal everything, but...I don't think it will." My eyes burned in unison with my scars as the memories of my first eight years flashed through my head. The afternoons I spent hiding. The evenings I spent crying. The mornings I spent with our private doctor, silently wishing he had the courage to see through her lies. The perpetual rain clouds that formed in my head, bringing constant storms of sadness and shame. "That woman broke me," I admitted, struggling to speak around the stone forming in my throat. "And I don't think a conversation is going to fix me."

Papa stood up and came to my side. He kneeled beside my chair, welcoming me into a tight embrace. "Audrey, you're not broken," he said.

My fingers unconsciously fell to the vertical scars on my wrists - the only ones my mother didn't inflict. I remembered the day all too clearly. The emptiness in my chest. The bitter bubbles in my stomach. The ache in my tear-ridden eyes. All I'd wanted was to rid myself of all the pain. For a few black moments, I thought that I'd succeeded.

But, then I woke up in the hospital room to my father's tear-stained faces and an unfamiliar doctor's pity-filled frown. And just like that all the pain returned, slamming down on me like a pile of bricks. Only this time, guilt was added into the mix. Guilt for scaring the living hell out of my fathers. Guilt for letting myself hit this low point. Guilt for traumatizing the fuck out of Max.

I'd never forget the look on his face when they let him into my room. His eyes were bloodshot, from tears rather than weed, and his brown eyes burned with an anger that scared me to my core. I let him curse and scream at me, letting him express his disappointment and love and hurt and relief. I'd hugged him when he was finished, hoping I could take all of his pain away. He'd given me one of his tight squeezes - one where I could barely breathe and my bones threatened to crack under his strength - and he made me promise to never leave him again. Despite my promise, he ended up spiraling again when the school year started; that experience yet another reason on his list to be angry at the world.

I didn't want to turn back on my promise to him, but I couldn't guarantee that seeing that woman would send me right back to rock bottom. I couldn't go back to that place again - not when I was finally starting to comprehend the happiness everyone in my life had been trying to give me.

"No one is forcing you to see your mother," Papa said after a quiet moment.

"I know," I murmured. "But I feel like I have to. She's dying, Papa. This may be my only chance to get some answers - some closure."

"May I ask what questions?"

A tear fell from my eye. "Why did she hate me so much?"

Papa held me tighter.. "Are you sure you're ready for that answer?"

"No," I answered honestly. "But, I can't move past this without knowing." I wiped the tear from my cheek. "Can I call Wyatt? I need to tell him I'm ready to see our mother."