Author: Teresa Mummert

“I might not be able to take you to Boston.”

“What? Why not?” My heart lodged in my throat, and I prayed he wasn’t going to break up with me.

“It would take weeks to come up with some money, and my parents want to send me to this boot‐camp thing.”

“What? They can’t do that. You’re going to be eighteen soon. They can’t make you go there.” I was panicking.

“Not for another five months, and they want me gone by next week. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t run away with you and risk us getting stranded, and until my birthday, they can do whatever the fuck they want.” Brock shook his head as we slipped behind a row of houses into the trees. I propped my bike against one, and we continued toward the creek.

“I can’t make it another five months, Brock. I can’t. This place is killing me.”

He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers together. We approached the edge of the water, where the grass grew thick and lush. He stopped and turned me toward him. “Tonight it’s just us.” His hand slid into my hair. “We’ll worry about the rest tomorrow, but please…I just need tonight.”

I nodded, and his lips crashed against mine. There was a hunger, a desperation in his touch. I tried to push the thought of losing him out of my mind. My hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders. His fingers tightened in my hair as his other hand slid over my hip and held my body against his.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” he mumbled breathlessly against my lips as his hand slid up my side, dragging my tank top up. His fingers glided over my stomach and along the waistband of my jeans. His gaze dropped between us before his eyes searched mine. I pulled my lip between my teeth as I nodded, and his lips were on mine again.

We sunk to the grass, and Brock pulled his shirt over his head and placed it on the ground before lowering me onto it, his body on top of mine. The moonlight filtered through the trees, and as the wind blew, it sent spots of light dancing over us. I slid my hands over his back as his hands went under my shirt and his palm moved over my breast. His lips traveled to my neck as he trailed kisses down to my collarbone.

He pulled back, his eyes on mine, and I smiled. “You sure about this, Bird?” he asked.

“You’re the only thing I’m sure about.”

He grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it beside us as he pressed his chest against mine. I wasn’t sure if it was his heart or mine that was hammering between us. His fingers slid between our bodies as he undid the button and zipper of my jeans. I did the same, undoing his pants with shaky fingers as we struggled to get closer to each other. I was terrified knowing what was about to happen, but I wanted it as much as he did.

He sat back on his knees as he tugged my jeans and panties down my hips. My arms covered my chest; I felt embarrassed about being so exposed to him. He smiled as he dragged my jeans down my legs then laid them on the grass beside us. His fingers looped around my wrists as he slowly pulled my arms away. “You’re so beautiful,” he said with sigh.

“Brock? Do you…do you have something?”

He laughed as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and grabbed a condom that was tucked inside. He put it between his teeth the tear it open. “This is going to hurt, Bird. But I promise I’ll take it slow.”

I nodded as he leaned his body over mine. Propped up on his forearm, he slid his jeans over his hips and unrolled the condom over his length. He positioned himself at my entrance, and his lips found mine. He kissed me slowly, taking his time until my body relaxed beneath him. He rocked forward, and I wrapped my arms around his back, holding his chest against mine. I tensed, and he pulled back, his kisses slowing as we repeated the process. This time he pushed in farther, slipping the tip inside me then stopping, letting me get used to the feeling.

“Are you OK?” he asked, his voice strained, as if it were painful for him to hold back.

“Yes,” I panted, and he rocked his hips, sliding farther inside me. I groaned as my body stretched and adjusted to accommodate him.

“This’ll hurt, but only for a few minutes, OK?”

I nodded as his lips found mine again, pressing impossibly hard. He pushed against me, and I tried to cry out, but his kisses swallowed my words. His hips stilled, giving me time to get used to him as his lips left mine, peppering kisses over my eyelids and the tip of my nose. “I love you, Lie. I love you so much.”

My eyes slowly opened as the pad of his thumb ran over my eyebrow. “I love you too.” I didn’t need to think about it as the words fell from my lips.

Between hungry kisses, we mumbled the words over and over as we made love under the moonlight. Flowing water drowned out heavy breaths, and rustling leaves masked the sounds of secret pleasures.

We lay in each other’s arms for an hour afterward as I confessed what my life had been like over the past few weeks. His fingertips trailed up and down my arm, and occasionally he pressed his lips to my temple and reassured me that everything would be OK.

I wanted to believe him, but knowing he’d be leaving in a few days, I was stuck to face this on my own, and I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough.

“I was ready to give up today,” I told him, “before you called. I can’t deal with it anymore. I can’t face three more months of school.”

Brock’s arm stiffened as he pulled me to his side. I placed my leg over his waist and my head on his chest, wishing tonight would never end.

“I promised you I’d take care of you. I mean what I say.” I looked up at him, and his eyes met mine. “You believe me, Bird?”

I nodded and lowered my head. There was nothing Brock could do to make this better. “I should get home. My mom will flip if she finds out I left.”

I sat up and grabbed my jeans and underwear then pulled them on quickly as I looked for my shirt. “Oh, no!” I spotted it on a rock in the middle of the creek, soaking wet. Brock laughed as he stood up and buckled his jeans.

“Take mine.” He bent down, grabbed his anarchy shirt, and held it out for me. I pulled it on quickly, loving that it smelled just like him. His fingers entwined with mine, and we made our way through the trees to my bike.

“I’m afraid I won’t see you again,” I told him. Tears clouded my vision, and Brock’s hand slid over the side of my neck as he pulled me into his arms.

Covered in a thin layer of sweat, I awoke to the smell of coffee. I pushed my hair from my face as I glanced to the table beside my bed. There was a coffee cup, filled to the brim, and toast with jelly. I grabbed my cell phone, but it had died overnight, and in my hurry to leave the apartment, I’d forgotten to grab my charger.

I threw back my covers and grabbed a piece of the toast, taking a bite as I went into my bathroom and turned on the shower. Between bites I stripped down before tossing the crust into the small brushed‐nickel trash can beside the sink.

I showered until the water ran cold, trying desperately to wash away the memories of my past. I dressed quickly and made my way downstairs, where Greg sat in his recliner, iPad in hand.

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

“Where you off to?” he asked, as my hand landed on the door handle.

“I have classes, remember?”

As I looked at him in the daylight, my heart sank at his deteriorating appearance. He wasn’t good at taking care of himself, and I wished he had found someone to marry so I didn’t have to worry so much.

‘”That wasn’t breakfast. I assumed you had a hangover. Let me cook you something.”

I chewed on my lip as I thought about being late for class. I had a few minutes to spare, and by the looks of my uncle, he didn’t have much time himself. Regret settled in the pit of my stomach for my not having spent more time with him. He worried about me constantly, and the pain of my past had me avoiding him.

“How about I make breakfast for you? You were kind enough to let me stay with you.”

“We’re family, Lie. You’re always welcome here.” He grunted as he pushed himself up from his seat then shuffled toward the kitchen. My mother and Greg were night and day for siblings. Time hadn’t been kind to him, and I suspected most of that was due to his health problems. I followed him to the kitchen and gestured for him to sit at the large glass table.

“When’s the last time you saw a doctor?” I asked, as I pulled open the fridge and searched for food.

“Those quacks don’t know anything.” He laughed but soon had to clear his throat, fighting off a cough. “It’s just a cold.”

I stood with a bowl of sliced fruit and looked over at him. “A cold? You’ve been sick for a year, and you look like death.”

“Gee, thanks, Lie.”

“You know what I mean.” I placed the fruit on the counter and turned back to the fridge to grab some yogurt. “If I’d knew you were this sick, I would have come to stay with you sooner.”

“No one knew. I don’t need any of those assholes in my business.”

I shook my head as I kicked the fridge closed with my foot. “I can’t blame you there.” I grabbed two bowls from the cupboard and mixed the fruit into the vanilla yogurt.

“You should have heard the way they reacted when I said you’d come to stay with me.” He nodded as I slid a bowl in front of him and slipped a spoon into it. “They acted like I was crazy for having you stay with me. They said you were dead to them.” He shook his head, and a painful expression marred his face.

“It’s fine.” I waved away his worry. “What they think doesn’t bother me anymore. I have everyone I need here.” I gave him a weak smile and took a seat across from him, ignoring the thoughts of Brock that forced their way into my brain. “Good job at changing the subject.” I bumped my shoulder against Greg’s, and he rumbled with a low laugh as he took a bite of his food. “So…the doctors?”

“Lie,” he groaned, and shook his head. His eyes began to water as he dipped his head. “There’s nothing they can do. It’s part of life. Some are shorter than others.”

Suddenly all my problems paled in comparison to his revelation. “I can’t lose you too. You’re all I have left.” My hand shook, causing the spoon to rattle off a rhythm against the bowl, close to that of my racing heart.

He smiled weakly as his hand wrapped around my fingers to still them. “You have friends, and even if I do leave this damn place, you’ll still have me.” He used his other hand to point to my chest. “I’m in there.”

A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I quickly brushed it away.

“I wish I could have had you as my daughter. I know I don’t get to talk to you much lately, what with your being busy and growing up, but I want you to know how proud I am of you, Delilah.”

“Proud?” I sniffled.

“Of course. I know life hasn’t been easy for you. I blame myself.” He squeezed my hand.

“How could you blame yourself? You didn’t know.”

“That’s not an excuse. I knew how you came about in this world. A child needs a father figure in her life—and a decent mother for that matter.”

“She was just a kid.” I shook my head to rid the image of Brock’s gray eyes from my thoughts. “Sometimes the truth isn’t always that cut and dry.”

“I’m just glad I get to spend the little time I have left on this earth with you.” He kissed my forehead with dry, cracked lips then released my hand and cleared his throat again. He picked up his spoon and took a bite. I watched him for a moment before picking up my spoon as well.

“I’m glad I’m here with you too, Uncle Greg. For what it’s worth, you make a good father.”

He smiled as he shoved another bite into his mouth, and we finished our meal in silence.