It's longer, but I thought you guys might like that fact. Right? Right?  

Chapter Five  

When I woke up it was raining. The storm lashed against the window in my room with all the rage of a tornado. My eyes had dried sometime during the long night, and crust had formed in the corners. Sore all over, I pushed the thick comforter aside to stumble to the bathroom.  

As I scrubbed my face—I avoided looking in the mirror—a sound drifted up from downstairs. I turned the faucet off, frowning. The sound rang out again, and this time I recognized laughter. Someone was… laughing?  

Confusion welled up within me. Mattie? Mom? Neither of them had any reason to laugh. Mom because of Dad, Mattie because of what I’d said, done to him…  

My mind shied away from any thought of last night. Instead of dwelling on my own pain and worry, I grabbed a sweatshirt from my closet and yanked it on over my flimsy blouse. I hadn’t bothered to change before dropping into bed.  

“Why not?” a high voice was laughing when I descended the stairs. “What do we have to lose? What’s keeping us here? Mattie, L.A. is dead. Until the economy picks up again—and it won’t for a long time, if ever—nothing here is going to change. I hear there’s work up north. They say—”  

“I can’t leave my mom,” Mattie interjected. I sat down on one of the middle stairs, leaning towards the rail to listen. I knew the saying about eavesdropping, of course, but at the moment I chose to ignore it.  

Beth sighed. I hated her right then more than I ever had before. Why was she here so early, anyway? But a quick glance at the grandfather clock surprised me. 1:47. How had I slept so late?  

“It’s not just your mom keeping you here, is it?” Beth asked. Her voice had gone all soft suddenly. I felt my eyes narrow.  

“Wren is only a year younger than you,” Beth continued. I heard Mattie’s intake of breath, felt my own. “She can take care of herself. And it’s not like she’d be all alone here; she does have your mom.”  

Tell her to shut up, I told Mattie. Tell her to shove it up—  

“But what about the money?” Mattie sighed now. “Mom’s stash is running out, and after what happened last night, I don’t think I can count on Wren to hold them up.”  

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Is that what Mattie really thought? And why wasn’t he telling Beth off? Why was he acting like… like he wanted to leave?  

“They’ll be fine,” Beth was saying now. Heart pounding, I tried to focus on their conversation. But my mind was racing in a million directions, outraged and confused and anguished and denying. “And wasn’t your mom looking into that receptionist job down at Rubber Records?”  

“She had an interview,” Mattie admitted. “But we don’t know if the job will come through. I can’t hope for the best and just go with you to wherever it is you’re thinking has work.”  

“I don’t think. I know. Remember my uncle Ronnie? He called us and told my dad that there was some big construction site going up in Wisconsin. They’re hiring anyone, apparently, to help with the work.”  

“I don’t know,” Mattie muttered. I could imagine him rubbing the back of his neck in the way that he always did when he was uncertain or thinking deeply. I was holding myself, trying not to make a sound. But every instinct inside of me wanted to burst. Don’t listen to her, Mattie! I wanted to shout. Tell her to get out of our house. We need you. I need you. You can’t leave. Beth sensed he was weakening, and I knew she would dive in for the kill. I understood how her mind worked, at this point. She was bored, and she wanted to go find excitement. That was fine; I didn’t care about that. Only problem I had was that she wanted to take my brother with her. And I wasn’t about to let that happen.  

Unless… he wants to go?  

I shook my head, hugging myself even tighter. No. He wouldn’t ever agree to her, no matter how much he seemed like he was thinking about it. He loved me. He loved Mom. It would go against everything I knew about him if he were to go. Mattie didn’t think about anyone else but us, his family. His every concern was for our wellbeing. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t go; he couldn’t go.  

Maybe things are changing.  

No.  

“Matt, you can’t stay with them forever,” Beth reasoned. I wanted to shoot her. “Eventually Wren is going to leave, too, and your mom will need to stand on her own two feet again. Maybe this isn’t just an opportunity, it’s fate. They’ve been leaning on you for too long. It’s time to let go. For everyone.”  

Yeah, everyone except you, I raged.  

“Beth, I just need to think about it for a couple days, all right?” Mattie said. My heart sank when I heard that. Usually when Mattie said that, it meant he would come around to their way of thinking. He wanted to please everyone, and at the same time do what was best for everyone. Beth had played her cards just right, the clever bitch.  

“Okay,” Beth agreed smoothly. “No problem. But if you do decide to go, we need to leave immediately. The work won’t be available for long.”  

“I know.”  

Beth didn’t say anything else on the subject. Mattie didn’t like pushy people; she knew that. “Well, I better to get back. Dad needs help fixing the shower. Can you believe it? The damn pipes broke again.”  

Mattie murmured a reply I didn’t catch, and then Beth walked into my line of view, heading for the door. Mattie followed slowly. I wished I could see his face, but his back was turned to me. Beth faced him, smiling tenderly. Her blond hair was perfect, as always, brushed smooth and tied back into a long ponytail. She was short, too. She actually had to look up at Mattie, instead of looking directly into his eyes like I did. The girl was as different from me as humanely possible.  

And maybe that’s what Mattie sees in her, I thought bitterly. He wants someone as unlike me as he can get.  

“See you tonight?” Beth asked, tilting her head coyly. Mattie may not have seen it, but I knew manipulation when I saw it. Clever bitch.  

Mattie rolled his shoulders as if he was tense, and nodded. Beth reached up to smooth that hair that always dangled in his eye back. I wanted to claw her pretty blue eyes out.  

“I love you,” she whispered. Then she stood up on tiptoe to kiss him. Mattie didn’t say the words back, but he made a sound in his throat when her lips touched his, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her tightly to him.  

Something inside of me broke when I saw that. He’d almost held me the same way last night. What did that mean? Beth had replaced me? Meant more to him? He was going with her, after all. I already knew that. It was only a matter of time until he told me.  

“Bye,” Beth said throatily when they parted, her smile catty and satisfied as she gazed up at him. Mattie kissed her one more time, and then she opened the door. Mattie shut it behind her. I watched as he sighed again and leaned his forehead on the wood. His flat hand curled into a fist, and he hit the door once. Twice.  

“You’re going to break it,” I said flatly, clenching my jaw. “And we can’t exactly afford to have the door replaced.”  

Mattie didn’t even jump, as if he’d known I was there the whole time. He was still for a moment, then he squared his shoulders and brushed his hair back. He turned around and looked at me, sitting all alone on the stairs.  

“You always did listen in on everyone,” he said bleakly. “Mom and Dad in their bedroom, your friends in the bathroom. I’ve never gotten that. Where’s the appeal in spying on people?”  

“I’ve never spied,” I replied. “I’ve learned.”  

He laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh I was used to. It was as if the Mattie I knew was already fading away, and this boy I didn’t know was replacing him. And I knew that even thought it was too late, I had to say it. Even thought it wouldn’t change anything now—all the pretenses had been ripped away, and the truth was too hard to face—I had to spit it out.  

“I’m sorry,” I said simply, stuffing everything I felt into the single word.  

My brother met my gaze, and his expression was resigned, regretful. “I know. So am I.”  

I nodded. “We can’t go back, can we?”  

Mattie shook his head, obvious pain in the movement. “No.”  

I nodded a second time. “You’re going, aren’t you?”  

He didn’t flinch. “Yes.”  

I felt as if I was falling, falling, and no one would be able to catch me. I would crash through the darkness and be lost. No one would be able to find me. I’d hit the ground, feel an instant of pain, and it would all be over. Oblivion. Beautiful oblivion.  

“Then go, Mattie.” I stood and acted as if the tears in my eyes didn’t exist. “Go right ahead and leave us. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway.”  

I turned and ran back up the stairs. I reached the safety of my bedroom, shutting the door with enough force to shake the house’s foundation. Mom was out, I knew, looking for a job, so I wouldn’t wake her.  

I curled up on my bed, wishing some of my warmth were still on the sheets so I didn’t feel so alone. Because it did matter. It mattered more than I could admit.  

* * *  

Turning, turning, the wheel is always turning. It groans, it creaks, it laughs and mourns as its rotations change the course of lives everywhere.  

Unsuspecting, I went through the rest of the week in a daze, dreading and knowing that the day Mattie would leave was fast approaching. Though I tried to deny my fury and pain, I shook with renewed anger when I heard Mom pleading with Mattie not to go. Eavesdropping again.  

“It’s so far,” she said in a choked whisper. I was supposed to be upstairs studying—even though the school was closed Mom wouldn’t listen to the idea of my turning away from education permanently—but she was always careful.  

There was a silence, and I could see Mattie rubbing her shoulders in my mind’s eye. “I have my cell,” he reassured her. “You can call every day, if you want.”  

“What about Wren?” There was the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor. Mom was standing up, and her voice reached its crescendo in her distress. “She depends on you.”  

It wasn’t like Mom to argue or to hold either of her children back.  

Mattie sighed, and the sound drifted up to me, loud in the silence. “She’ll do just fine without me. Whether you realize it or not, she’s grown up. I’m nothing but a hindrance.”  

More lies Beth had fed him, no doubt. I trembled from restraining myself. I wanted to jump up, run down to the kitchen, and shake some sense into my thick-headed brother.  

Mom must have been in the same place as me. “Mattie, you don’t know whether or not there even is work. What would be the point in going all the way up north and finding nothing?”  

“Beth’s uncle—”  

“These days, who can know what’s truth? Maybe he was misinformed.”  

“Mom, I’m going.” Mattie’s voice had hardened, and I recognized his tone. I remembered one of our dad’s favorite sayings, and he’d used the same damn, annoying tone. My way or the highway. Mattie was more like Dad than I’d realized. Kind of ironic, really—in the end, both of them were leaving me behind.  

He hasn’t left yet, a hopeful nudge in my mind whispered. There’s still time.  

But I’d stayed up many nights thinking. Maybe… maybe it was best that Mattie was leaving. I couldn’t help but remember all those times, those heated moments when Mattie’s gaze had been less than brotherly. When his arms didn’t feel paternal… they felt like more. Maybe distance was best, for now. Hell, I might have been imagining everything—I may have been messed up in the head—but I was willing to latch onto any excuse that would make his departure less painful. Reality or misunderstanding, I didn’t care.  

“I’ll miss you.” Mom sounded completely defeated, broken. I ached for her.  

“Oh, Mom.” I heard Mattie’s feet pound against the floor as he went to hug her, and she made a small helpless sound, like a sob.  

How can you just leave us like this? How? I raged against him, momentarily forgetting my excuses. We need you. Everything I’d thought I’d known about him was slipping through my fingers. I’d thought he was so sensitive to us, couldn’t bear to see either of us hurting. Why, then, was he doing this?  

You may have just answered your own question, that voice said softly. He might be leaving because he can’t stand seeing his family falling apart.  

I paused, not really hearing Mom’s soft crying and Mattie’s murmurs of comfort. But there was no more time for speculation—I heard my cell phone ringing upstairs in my room. Grateful for the distraction, I scrambled to my feet as quietly as I could and darted to my phone. It lay on my dresser, and I frowned at the small lit-up screen.  

PRIVATE CALLER.  

“Hello?” I said hesitantly, a little distracted. Mattie was saying something to Mom now, too quietly for me to hear.  

“Wrenny?”  

My spine stiffened instinctively at the familiar voice. It couldn’t be… I choked it out in disbelief, “Dad?”  

The line crackled as he let out a breath I hadn’t known he was holding. “Wrenny, I didn’t think… I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days…”  

“W-what do you mean?” I pressed my phone closer, staring at my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall beside the door. My face was pale, and my own wide eyes stared back at me. “Daddy, is this really you?”  

His voice warmed. “It’s me, baby. I’ve missed you so much.”  

I was a little kid all over again, excited when she saw her father coming up the sidewalk, finally home from work. “Where are you?” I asked breathlessly. “Are you in town? Have you talked to Mom? What’s going on?” I forgot all about what was going on downstairs. There was only the cell phone and the man talking to me on the other side.  

“Wrenny, I can’t say much right now. It’s hard to explain. But… yes, I am in town. I came to see you.”  

He’d lowered his voice, as if someone was in the room with him and he didn’t want them to hear. I frowned, and abruptly reality came crashing back. My mind filled with memories of all the nights Mom had stayed up trying to hold in her sobs, the shadows under Mattie’s eyes, my own pain and loneliness. Two years. Two years. And not a word, not a call, not a card… until now.  

“What the hell were you thinking?” The words came hard and fast.  

Dad knew instantly what I was talking about. When he replied, he sounded weak and tired, not at all like I once knew him to sound like. He’d been strong, unrelenting, teasing. Who was this?  

“Honey, I know you’re mad. And you have every right to be. But, honestly, what could I do? I was out of work, and I felt the weight of all of you on my shoulders. I went to find work, so I could support my wife and our children. Can’t you see where I was coming from? I had to leave,” he pleaded with me to understand.  

“Bullshit.”  

“What?”  

“You heard me.” I gritted my teeth, wanting to spit at him. “Bullshit. You were a coward. You were scared.”  

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I waited, barely holding back all the names and insults I wanted to scream at him.  

“You’re right, honey,” he said finally. “You’re absolutely right.”  

It was the exact same thing he’d said to me the last time I’d seen him. Right before he’d made the decision to run, to abandon those that loved him and depended on him. Without even a goodbye or a reason.  

“I’m done with you,” I hissed. “You don’t deserve us. You’re not my father anymore, and I never want to hear from you again. You can just crawl right back to that hole you crawled out of.”  

I don’t know what I expected. In the past, the father I’d known would have given me the sharp side of his tongue for being so lippy, would have grounded me for a week and sent me upstairs. I wasn’t prepared for what he threw at me.  

“Not all of us can be as strong as you, Wren.”  

That was all. No excuses, not even an apology. Just soft, broken words. He reminded me of Mom when he said that. They both had the same defeat, the same touch of the world-weary.  

“Do you have any idea what you did to us?” I pressed the heel of my hand against my left eye, rubbing it in until it hurt. But I didn’t stop or flinch at the pain—I kept digging in.  

Dad made another pained sound in his throat. “I-I don’t know what to say. I’ve tried to think of something that could possibly begin to make it up to you, but I’m not… You know me, Wrenny. I can’t…”  

“You’re weak,” I said simply.  

“Please try to be a little more respectful, Wren. I didn’t raise you to be rude,” he snapped. That’s more like the father I knew, I thought sourly. Then he cleared his throat. “But I would like to see you, if you’re willing. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I have no right—”  

Just then I heard Mattie coming up the stairs. He’d left Mom in the kitchen, all alone, and we could both hear her moving around, keeping busy so she wouldn’t focus on her own worry and hurt. I hated them both right then, Dad and Mattie.  

If you can leave, Mattie, then I can too. I smiled. Dad was still talking, asking, half-begging me to come see him at his hotel room in downtown L.A.  

I cut him off. “You know what? I will come. Just tell me when and where.”