“I saw you out in the garden,” I blurt, staring at Mom. “I heard some of the things you said. I heard you begging Reeve to help.” The lump thickens in my throat, and I swallow painfully. “I couldn’t handle it. Knowing how much I was hurting you, and I was so confused. I needed to know more about the past. To see it with my own eyes, so I took the spare truck keys, drove out to San Jose, and I visited the house I lived at with Lori.” I rub at the tight pain in my chest that has nothing to do with my physical injuries. “I can hardly remember her anymore,” I admit in a low voice.
“I can relate.” East leans forward in his chair. “I barely remember Reeve anymore. The memories I have are fleeting and fading.”
My natural instinct is to lash out, to tell him at least he still has some memories. Or even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t wipe out the fact he had five years with my father when I got no time with him.
But I force that instinct aside. It’s not my brother’s fault that happened. The blame squarely lies with Reeve and Reeve alone. He made that decision, and he’s the only one who deserves my scorn and my hatred, so I promise myself I will direct all that aggression and hostility in his direction. I won’t blame my parents or Easton for Reeve’s sins.
“Lori loved you so much, Bodhi,” Mom says. “She was in a lot of pain those last few months, but she worked tirelessly to ensure you were taken care of before she died. She was a great mother and you adored her.”
“I have been mad at her for abandoning me too, which is unfair when it wasn’t her fault.”
“You can’t force yourself to feel a certain way and emotions are there to be felt and understood. It seems like you have dealt with that one,” Dad says.
“I’m not sure I have dealt with any, but things are starting to look a little clearer. I just wish it hadn’t taken a near-death experience to reach this point.”
“You’re alive, and you’ll make a full recovery. You have some cracked ribs, a mild concussion, and the gash on your side is nasty, and it’ll leave a scar, but the knife missed all your vital organs,” Mom reassures me, patting my hand.
“The doctors cleaned the wound and stitched it, and they have you on antibiotics, as well as pain meds, to ward off infection. You should be allowed to go home in a couple of days,” Dad says.
“That’s good, but I wish I could leave now. I miss my sisters. I want to hug them and tell them I love them too.”
“We can bring them over later,” Dad says. “I know they’d like to see you.”
“I’d like that.” I clear my throat, and Mom instantly reaches for my water. I take a few sips before continuing, knowing this part is going to devastate my parents. “I wanted to know more about Saffron,” I blurt, watching Mom’s face pale and Dad’s arm automatically go around her shoulders. “I needed to know she wasn’t all bad because if she’s all bad there’s a good chance I’m the same too, right? I mean, neither of my parents were saints, and both were addicts.”
“Your father beat his addiction, and you will too.” Mom’s voice resonates with supreme confidence, and I hope I am strong enough to not let her down. “And there isn’t a bad bone in your body, Bodhi. You have always been a good kid.”
“Being troubled doesn’t equate to being bad,” Dad says.
“But the choices you make from here on out will largely dictate that,” Easton says, sounding way older than he is. But that’s my brother. “You lost your way, bro, but you’ll find it back.”
“What did you do?” Mom asks, chewing on the corner of her lip.
“I found a guy online who went to school with Saffron. I had reached out to him, and he suggested meeting up. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go there, but after hearing you in the garden, I knew I needed to find out if I was to have any chance to move beyond this. I met him at Lori’s and Saffron’s childhood home. It was in a shitty neighborhood, and the house is abandoned now. It was all boarded up and overrun with weeds.”
That was the first wake-up call. Staring at the poverty they grew up in showed me how fortunate I was to have grown up in nice neighborhoods never wanting for any material thing. “I actually felt kind of sorry for her,” I truthfully admit. “It’s like she never stood a chance.”
“Saffron had plenty of chances,” Mom says. “She threw them all away including an acting career and all the money she made from it.”
“And Lori grew up there, and she was a decent person,” Dad adds. “We all have choices in life, like Easton just alluded to. No matter our circumstances, the decisions we make shape the people we become and the lives we lead. I’m so fucking lucky I got the opportunity to make up for my mistakes, and I choose to live my life more openly now. Not everyone gets that chance. I’m grateful I had so many people around me who cared enough to help set me straight. You do too, Bodhi.”
“I know,” I whisper, biting on the inside of my mouth. “I was clutching at straws, wanting to see something good in her, but there is none.” My voice sounds hollow to my own ears as I continue. “Dirk took me to the bar. He said there were some other guys there who knew Saffron.” I gulp back bile. “They were cool at first, and we shared beers. But gradually the masks came off, and I saw them for what they were.”
My chest heaves, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I remember all the horrible stuff they said about my bio mom. I know they weren’t lying, but I didn’t need to know all the gory details. I was trying to cling to an illusion she was a drug addict who was incapable of making any decision when it came to her child, but the truth is, Saffron Roberts was a cold, heartless, selfish bitch her entire life. It wasn’t the drugs that made her like that. It was just her.
“They said horrible things about her,” I admit, forcing my eyes open. “But it wasn’t lies. They told stories of week-long drug and booze orgies where they all shared her. She routinely broke up relationships, and she had at least three abortions those guys knew of.” A shuddering breath escapes my lips as I pause to take a minute. This shit is hard to say.
“You don’t have to continue if it’s too painful for you, honey,” Mom says.
“Yes, he does,” Dad counteracts. “If Bodhi is serious about facing up to his issues, he can’t bury his head in the sand any longer.”
“He’s lying on a hospital bed, bruised, stabbed, and concussed, Dil,” Mom replies. “We can cut him some slack until he feels better.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Dad is right, Mom. There’ll be no ideal time to face up to this shit. Hiding behind my injuries is no different than hiding behind my shame and my fear.” I rub her arm. “I’m okay. I want to get this all out.”
“I’m here for you,” East says, his voice projecting strength. Strength I know I’ll need to lean on in the coming months.
“It became clear I’d made a big mistake,” I continue. “A few of the guys turned nasty, and they told me Saffron had OD’d owing them money. It was obvious they expected me to repay her debts and I’d been baited into a trap. I tried to run. Got outside to my truck when they caught up to me. They hauled me into an alley and started punching and kicking me. I tried to fight back but there were six of them and only one of me. I’d brought a knife with me.”