body. I’d be that cheerful with them, too, if I only saw them a few days a week. “Okay, monsters, why don’t you sit down in the chair and Daddy will turn on the TV. I’ve gotta talk to Mommy for a sec, okay?”
I’m already in the bedroom when Eric starts down the hall.
Crossing my arms defensively in front of me, I ask, “What?”
“Do you want to leave me, Natalie?” he whispers as he closes the door behind him.
“I don’t know.” I shrug, looking down at his bare feet. “It was an awful thing you said. About Ryker—”
His tone instantly fills with malice as he cuts me off, “You think you can use my children as a threat against me?”
“It’s not a threat, Eric.” I meet his eyes and refuse to look away. He doesn’t intimidate me, but I don’t like the seriousness in his eyes.
“Well,” he continues, “I’d like you to tell me what court in their right mind would give custody to an unemployed mother who cuts herself for fun.”
I know he regrets it as soon as he says it; his eyes give him away every single time. The fact that it was even in his heart to say it, though, is enough to send me into a blind rage. Rage and fear that I haven’t felt for a long time.
* * *
Lucas’s funeral was the worst thing I’ve ever been to in my life. Ryker was still in the hospital—supposed to be released soon—so Tosha went with me, and we stood with Ryker’s dad.
God, it was awful.
People my age were standing in sobbing clusters, and it was all I could do not to throw up. When the soldiers handed Lucas’s parents the flag from his coffin, I swear I thought I was going to pass out. My knees buckled a little, until I felt Ryker’s dad’s arm hook around my waist. He held me steady and kissed the top of my head. I felt sick and relieved at the same time. Ryker was going to come home. It wasn’t his funeral. But, it was his best friend’s and he was missing it. He saw him die.
It was a fight to get my parents to “let” me go to Lucas’s funeral in the first place. The semester was over and I was taking finals. My mom thought that going to a funeral would ruin my semester. Well, it was already ruined, given that someone I considered a friend was sent home from the war in pieces. And, screw her. The bigger fight, however, came a week after the funeral, when they called to discuss what day they’d help me move my stuff home.
“I’m staying here this summer,” I balked petulantly.
“I don’t think so, young lady,” my dad answered. I could tell I was on speakerphone because I heard my mom start talking in the background.
“I stayed here last summer, Dad. I took classes and did an internship to help build my student portfolio. I’ll be doing the same thing this summer.” Panic started to rise through my body.
“Natalie, this year has been an emotional one for you. You need to come home this summer to regroup.”
“Ryker will be home soon!” I shouted. “I’m not leaving until I see him. Dad. He was shot, his best friend died, and I’m not going to have him come home and me not be here!” My voice shrieked into a cry that I no longer tried to conceal.
Tosha walked in the room and mouthed “Ryker?” when she saw me crying. I shook my head and mouthed “parents” back.
“Here’s the deal, Natalie,” my mother piped in, “either you come home at the end of the semester, or your father and I will stop paying for your education. We will not send our money only to have you blow it on a relationship with this Ryker boy.” The ice cubes from her voice froze my tears in place and traveled down my spine.
“That’s fine. Don’t pay for school anymore. But you forget, I’m twenty years old and have no legal obligation to return to your home under any circumstances.” Tosha threw her fists into the air and, I think, said “hallelujah.”
My parents sat in what I assume was stunned silence on the other end. I’d called their bluff. They had nothing else up their sleeves.
“Hello?” I prompted.
My dad cleared his throat. “I’ll call you later, Natalie.” He hung up.
I won that round. Now, I just needed Ryker to come home. Fast.