Read Online Out of Mind by Jen McLaughlin - Free Book Online Page A

scratched his head. His half-bald head. When had that happened? He’s always seemed so strong. Ageless. Now, as I thought it over, I realized he was over fifty. Too young to die, but old enough to be way too fucking close to it. “There’s nothing you can do to stop time from moving on. Nothing you can do to change the past.”
    I let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah. No kidding. I learned that up close and personal. One might even say I had a front row seat.”
    “I know, and I’m sorry you did.” He ran his hands over his hair. “I wish I could change that. Wish I could take it all away.”
    “Yeah, well, you can’t change what already happened.”
    I opened his dresser and pulled out a pair of pajamas. They were blue and had stripes on them. They’d been his present from me last year for Christmas. That seemed as if it was a lifetime ago, not only one year. It had been before I met Carrie. Before I learned what love really was. Before I’d watched my whole unit die and then lived to tell about it.
    A hell of a lot could happen in a year.
    “No, but we can change how it affects us.” Dad pulled his sweater over his head, and I handed him the pajama top. “You’re pushing her away.”
    “I know. I can’t help it.” I picked up the pants and held them out as Dad shrugged into his shirt. “I keep saying I’ll stop. Keep waking up with the best intentions. But then I fuck up and I still push her away.”
    “You have to stop hurting her. Have you talked to her about it?”
    I hesitated. “We haven’t really talked much at all.”
    “Because you’re pushing her away.”
    “Yes.” I crumpled his pants in my hand. “Sometimes I think she would be better off without me.”
    He shook his head. “She wouldn’t be. She’d live. She’d laugh. She’d smile. But she wouldn’t be better.”
    Dad’s hands were shaking too badly for him to button the shirt himself, so I tossed his pants to the side and went to help him button his shirt…right until I realized I could barely manage to button my own damn shirt. So I just stood there, helplessly watching my father struggle to dress himself.
    How the fuck had I missed this? How could I be so self-centered?
    “You’re not self-centered. You’re recovering. There’s a difference.” Dad frowned at me. Those pain pills must’ve messed with my head. I hadn’t even meant to talk out loud. “But the kind of love that you two have doesn’t come around often. To waste it on pride and self-pity would be a crime.”
    I swallowed hard. Damn it, he was right. I was being an idiot, but I already knew that. I just couldn’t stop . Too bad they didn’t make a pill for that. “I hate that she’s stuck with this. Stuck with me.”
    “She’s not stuck with you; she chose you.” Dad caught my hand and squeezed it tight. “You can’t lose her, too. Don’t let that happen, because I guarantee you’ll regret it if you do.”
    I met his eyes. “Are you saying I’m losing you?”
    “I’m saying I’m old and sick.” Dad lifted a shoulder. “It’s not rocket science, son. Everyone dies. I’m not sad that my turn is coming. You shouldn’t be either.”
    “I can’t lose you, Dad.”
    “I’ll try my best to stay, but it’s not up to me.” Dad pointed up toward the ceiling. “It’s up to Him.”
    At first I thought he meant Senator Wallington, whose bedroom suite was upstairs on the third floor, but then I realized he meant God. The same God I wasn’t even sure I believed in anymore. Why would the “merciful” God kill all my squad members, but let me live? Why would He take my mother away?
    And why was He trying to take my father, too?

    Later that night, I sat in my dark bedroom, staring out the window. The moon was full, and it made me think of the last time I’d seen it that way. I’d been with Carrie on my bike. We’d whipped through the streets of San Diego, and she’d clung to me the whole time. We’d been so wild and free and in love.
    My dad