The Family Room Ch. 08

I truly did. That love was reconfirmed numerous times in the two hours I spent telling my story.

"You have someplace to go?" Linda asked.

I nodded. It wouldn't be home, it would never be home again. Lance would have me, he would be thrilled to open his tiny apartment to me.

That wasn't my place though, my place was with Julie. If I couldn't be with her than I'd rather not be at all. I thrust out my bottom lip and exhaled, letting my warm breath rustle my bangs.

"Rick?"

"I'm ready," I said after a moment. "Ready to go. Tell Jerry, I'm sorry I didn't say... Don't forget to lock up."

My sandals scattered pebbles of asphalt as I walked back across the bridge. The clouds were gone, at least the ones in the sky, it seemed as if they had abandoned the atmosphere to take up residence in my soul. My parents hated me, I would never see Julie again, I just wanted it to be over.

The night was still and the stars bright. I studied the round face of the moon and the winking stars. I'd be just as well off falling in love with one of the celestial bodies in the sky, that's how impractical my love for Julie was. My love for her had cost me everything. I always knew that it would, no matter how much I allowed my feelings to delude me, deep down I knew.

The swishing of the water grew louder as I neared the side of Miller's Bridge. This time I didn't stand on the edge of the guardrail, I straddled it. A breeze came off the lake, it slapped my face with a gush of cool air. It screamed at me to step back. The moist air begged and pleaded, don't give up, you have too much to live for. Water poured over my face. I was crying, why was I crying?! Tears couldn't help, they couldn't give me Julie, and they certainly couldn't save me.

I thought about my family. Would Mom and Dad be there when they buried me? Would there even be a funeral, or would Dad have me cremated and pitch my ashes down a storm sewer?

I leaned over the bridge, the water seemed closer than ever. I heard my name, a siren's call, only this siren begged me to turn away, to not give myself to the waters.

***

Julie tiptoed into the family room. Her father was on the sofa. His legs were folded so his knees almost grazed his chin. She had only seen him cry once, at Grandma June's funeral. There were only a few tears then, just a dribble down each cheek. Tonight, he was crying like a little child.

Rick used to cry like this, as a boy, but since he became a man tears never seemed necessary. Except after their first time, when he must have thought he was losing her. He came to her room and begged her forgiveness. She had always loved Rick, but that night and those tears made her realize how much.

Her father's tears garnered no such emotion.

She saw the vase on the table behind the sofa. It had once held a dozen beautiful peach roses, but now it was empty, a barren hunk of crystal. She wanted to take it up and smash it over her father's head. Make him bleed, hurt him the way he had hurt Rick. She choked on a sob, how could she think such things.

Donald Martin noticed his daughter's presence and in moments they were in each other's arms.

She didn't ask him to let Rick come home, she didn't beg. She knew what the answer would be, so there was no point. They held each other for what seemed like hours. "Daddy why?" She didn't think she had the courage or the will to ever speak to him again.

"He killed us," Donald said at last. His words were separated by shallow breaths into her hair. "He killed our family."

Julie used the sleeve of her robe to wipe a string of mucous from her nose. "No Daddy, you did."

Her father's palms went to his eyes, they couldn't stop the tears.

"I love him Daddy." Her red eyes managed to sparkle through the tears as she said it.

Her father uncovered his face and slammed a fist into the back of the couch. A spring popped. "You can't love him. He's your brother." He made it sound so simple, as if there was a file somewhere filled with a list of the people you could and could not be in love with.

"I won't let you go anywhere near him."

"I'm nineteen years old, you can't stop me!" Her voice and temperature rose.

"The police can," he said. He was bluffing wasn't he? He would never call the police on his own children. Then again, she never thought he would say or do the things he had done to Rick.

"Sweetheart, I don't blame you for what happened. You were taken advantage of by someone you trusted."

He never took advantage, she thought, he never did anything but love and protect me. And now he was out there, alone. Rick was so in love with her, so devoted, it scared her sometimes. She remembered the time in the park, their only real fight. It had lasted all of fifteen minutes. She made him promise that he would never screw their relationship up. Her brother was awkward, insecure and hopelessly romantic. No one loved her the way Rick did, he said he would throw himself off a bridge for her.

An image popped in her head of police dragging the shallow water of Lake Jude. Her body trembled as she raised from the sofa. He would do it, she realized. "Rick's in trouble," she muttered, as if her father would care. She scrambled off the couch.

Her father took one of her icy hands. "Sweetheart I---"

Julie dug her fingernails into the meat of his palm. Donald Martin yelped and released her. It had felt good, no matter how bad she felt.

This was her chance, while her father was still clutching his bleeding hand. She ran to the kitchen. Her heart beat fast, she spotted the keys on the counter by the microwave. The counter where she and Rick... she had to stop him. Her father was close behind, sliding on the slick linoleum. He begged her to stop. She yanked a kitchen chair from under the table and tipped it on it's side. His feet tangled in the legs of the chair, he fell with a crash.

Donald Martin called out in agony. He begged, pleaded for her to help him. He may have been her father, but if he had been dying on that cold kitchen floor she would have left him.

She didn't care if he called the police. They could lock her away for assault or auto theft or incest, she had to find her brother.

Julie raced her parent's sedan through the streets of Saratoga Spring. She was halfway to Lake Jude before she realized the headlights were off. She slammed the brakes as soon as she spotted Rick's empty car in the gravel lot. She burst out of the car screaming his name. No answer. She glared into the dimness across the bridge, he wasn't there. A chill wind rustled her hair, she was too late. She leaned over the guard rail, screaming his name, but she was too late.

She could barely see through her tears. How could he do this to her? How could he destroy the one thing that had ever been perfect?

"Julie." Her own name, spoken from her brother's lips, was the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. He was standing at the top of the little dirt path that led under the bridge. She bounced into his arms and tackled him to the cement. She wanted to be furious at him for scaring her like that, but was incapable.

She kissed him, over and over. Sometimes the kisses were long and passionate, sometimes short successions of pecks. When she finally stopped there was an older man and woman standing over them.

Julie climbed off of her brother and helped him sit up. She grabbed his bandaged hand and examined it, she hoped she hadn't hurt him. She must have made an odd sight, sitting there on the concrete in nothing but a nightshirt and her opened bathrobe.

Rick wiped away the tears she hadn't realized were on her cheeks. "Julie," he said, "I didn't think I would ever---" She interrupted him with a kiss.

He broke free from her lips and motioned to the older couple. "These are my friends Jerry and Linda." She nodded politely, her arms still wrapped around his chest. He faced the older couple. "This is my sister." She went rigid. "Don't be upset," he whispered.

He needn't have worried. She couldn't be angry with him, not tonight.

To be continued