Read Online Lily of the Valley by Sarah Daltry - Free Book Online

dad?”
    “I want nothing. I want him to disappear. But I don’t want to make my grandmother suffer.”
    “Can you handle him being out at some point?”
    The rehabilitation program will speed up his parole, so rather than the thirty years he got, he’d be out in less than five more. Sure, it would still be a decade in prison and then endless “rehabilitation,” but my mom was worth more than a decade. One condition of him even getting that far, of course, is an ongoing effort to repair his relationship with me. Maybe if I’m long gone, they won’t be able to make me come back for him.
    “I don’t know,” I admit.
    “Can you handle just making your grandmother happy and doing the visit?”
    I shrug. “I guess. It’s just always someone else, you know? Always what makes someone else happy. I don’t know why it bugs me, since I’m fucking miserable regardless, but just once, I would love to be the reason someone smiles. And not because I did something they wanted. Just because.”
    Sandee stabs out her cigarette and squeezes my arm. Most people don’t touch me at all and no one but Alana and my grandmother hugs me, but it’s a small act of comfort and I appreciate the gesture. I know she’s only ten years older than me, and she is certainly not my mom, but I cling to her like she is.
    “Maybe you’re just desperate for the smile to come from the wrong people,” she says. “If he isn’t gonna change, it doesn’t mean you can’t be strong enough to go, if only to make it easier on your grandmother.”
    I finish my own cigarette. “Got more of whatever that was?”
    I take another swig of the dark alcohol and sigh.
    “You’re the second person to say that in the last two days,” I say. “That I seek the approval of the wrong people.”
    “I didn’t say approval. I just think you feel like you need to prove yourself to people who doubt you, rather than loving the ones who already believe. You’ll never make everyone happy, Jack. Even if you had the life you wish you had, someone would always be ready to tell you you’re not good enough.”
    “People fucking suck, Sandee.”
    She nods and moves to the door. “That they do. I’m heading back in, but take your time. It’s dead anyway.”
    I climb up the side of the pallets and sit on top, staring up at the sky. The pink has faded with the day, giving way to darkness. There’s a weird cloud cover overhead, a strange greenish gray mass that blots out the moon and makes the entire back lot look eerie. I’m feeling guilty about Alana, about hurting her, about being such a letdown to her. It makes me feel worse about saying no to my grandma, even though what she’s asking is the hardest thing for me to do.
    I think back to when it all happened, about how she faced everything bravely. She sat through the trial and never shed a tear, never showed how much it tore her apart. I have to be able to do this.
    I take out my phone and text Alana. I want to see her after work. She tells me she’ll meet me in the lot when I get out and I decide I’ll make things up to her. I don’t know how, but I’ll fix everything. I have to hope there’s something in my life that isn’t beyond repair.
    ****
    When I get out of work, I find Alana passed out drunk in the backseat of my grandma’s car. I take the bottle from her hand and sit her up, trying to stir her.
    “Wake the fuck up,” I say.
    She mumbles and tries to slink back down along the seat. I push her against the door to keep her upright.
    “Alana, wake the fuck up.”
    She doesn’t, though, and I’m pissed. I know she wouldn’t be stupid enough to drive here drunk, but she must have crawled into my car and finished the bottle fast. This is what you get for the shit you do , my mind tells me. Yeah? Fuck you, mind.
    I buckle Alana into a seatbelt and crack the window a bit, hoping the air will stir her.
    “You’re pissing me off,” I tell her.
    I drive around for a while, waiting for her to wake