“How are you feeling?” he asked, stopping a few feet from the bed.
Part of me wanted to lie, because I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to talk to Carl, if that was what he wanted to do. I didn’t. “Yeah, I’m feeling better.”
“Up for a little company?”
I nodded and then pushed myself up so I was leaning against the headboard. I brought my pillow with me, cradling it to my chest.
Carl sat on the edge of the bed, his upper body angled toward me. “It’s been a long week, huh?”
I nodded once more.
“And we’re only halfway there,” he mused, smiling slightly. He turned his head away and I noticed the gray around his temple was spreading, peppering the side. “You going to go to school tomorrow?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “That’s the plan.”
“That’s good. With the holiday break coming up, you don’t want to get too behind,” he said, hooking his leg over the other. “I know you talked to Rosa Monday, and I would’ve talked to you earlier, but the hospital has been a little crazy. With the cold weather and improperly used kerosene heaters, I’ve had back-to-back surgeries.” He looked over at me and a moment passed. “But I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I need to apologize for what I said.”
That inherent need to tell him it was okay was hard to ignore, but I did it. I waited in silence.
“Rosa and I know you’re not Marquette. We didn’t adopt you to replace her,” he began. “The moment we decided to adopt you, you became our child, just as important as Marquette and every bit as amazing as she was.”
My chest tightened, so I held the pillow close.
“We’re your parents, and parents...they mess up. I know mine did. It’s inevitable, and I messed up on Sunday. I said something out of anger and frustration that I shouldn’t have said. And I’m sorry. I know it hurt your feelings and upset you, and I am truly sorry for that.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded as I willed the pressure in my chest to go away. It seemed to expand instead. “I forgive you,” I said, and I did.
“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled again as his gaze met mine. “Rosa told me what you told her about Rider, and I want to say that you’re right. I really wasn’t giving him a shot.”
Rider was the last thing I needed to talk about. “We don’t—”
“No. We do. Hear me out, okay?” The genuine request in his tone had me snapping my mouth shut. “I have been entirely too judgmental of Rider. I’ve let my own biases and experiences get in the way and that’s not right.”
I thought about what Rosa had said yesterday about Carl having his own story to tell.
“I had a brother,” he said, surprising me. “His name was Adrian. He was only two years older than me. The city wasn’t like it is today, but there were problems back then. The violence in these streets is nothing new and just like now, it has always touched too many lives. For some, more intimately than others.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “It wasn’t always guns. Sometimes they had knives and baseball bats, anything they could get their hands on, and sometimes it was just their hands. Anything, even fists, can be deadly weapons.”
Oh, man, I had a feeling where this story was heading and I felt sick.
“Adrian was always in trouble. He dropped out of school when I was a freshman. To be honest, I don’t even know what he was doing. We were opposites in a lot of ways, but he always seemed to have money and I knew enough to know it wasn’t coming from anywhere good. Back in the seventies, jobs were already beginning to dry up and there was little opportunity left behind,” he explained. “Either way, I remember Adrian being at home on a Wednesday. I remember my mother upset and crying. And I remember our father telling him to leave. Not sure what happened exactly and my parents never really talked about it. I think they blamed themselves. If they hadn’t asked him to leave, he’d still be alive kind of thing.”
Carl tipped his head back and sighed. “He was killed about a week later. Baseball bat to the head. It wasn’t a wrong place or wrong time. We don’t know what he was killed over. The police had suspected drugs, but they really hadn’t looked into his death too hard. Adrian was just another kid they were scraping off the streets.”
“That’s...that’s horrible.” Did they think that when they were called in for Jayden? I already knew the answer to that. I just didn’t want to think it, and that didn’t say very good things about me.
His dark eyes glinted. “Adrian made some bad choices. Just like I imagine this young friend of yours had. Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. And that doesn’t stop anyone from wondering about what could have been if a life hadn’t been wasted.”
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, staring at him. “I didn’t know.”
“You wouldn’t. It’s something I haven’t had a lot of reasons to talk about.” He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Or maybe I should’ve found some reasons.”
But there had been hints over the years, things he’d said that suddenly made sense. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago, but thank you.” He reached over, patting my blanket-covered leg. “When Rider came along, I couldn’t help but think of Adrian. He reminded me of him—the carelessness in the way he approached life, as if he just didn’t give a damn.”