Page 88 of Keep Your Guard Up
“Dinner?”
“Yeah, sweetie. It’s just after five.”
Guess it has been longer than 12 hours, then.
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”
“I know you’re hurtin’, darlin’. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked softly. “Does it have anything to do with your friend you introduced me to?”
I sighed, not having the energy to talk my way out. “He lied to me.”
“We all tell lies sometimes, Mar. I told JJ he looked good with his prepubescent moustache when he was thirteen. You and I both knowthatwas a lie.” He chuckled.
“It wasn’t just one lie, Dad.”
He sighed. “Okay, darlin’. I won’t push ya. But do me a favour, will you?”
I nodded, and he reached beside him for the book behind my legs.
“I was asked bysomeoneto give this to you. Your grandmother seems to think it’s very important you read it. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not go up against her, hey?”
In his hand was a worn and torn notebook with yellow water-stained pages. Some pages had very clearly been laid out in thesun to dry, as they made a crinkling sound when Dad placed it into my hand.
“Thanks, sweetie.” He winked, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and quietly padded out.
~
It took approximately thirty minutes of constant back and forth in my head of ‘Should I read it?’ or ‘Should I bin it?’.
Obviously, since curiosity killed the cat, the ‘I should read it’ won out. I sat up in bed, the night air starting to creep through the fly screen over the open window. Pulling the doona up high and turning a nearby lamp on, I squinted at the light.
And the smell of myself.
Dad really should have pushed a bit harder to get me into the shower.
The same pages crinkled when I picked the book up, a faint smell of dust and dampness coming out of them. Like a dog, sussing out a new toy, I sniffed it. The dust smell was pretty strong, but there was something else under it. Something bitter. Maybe beer? Petrol? Gasoline?
“Enough, Mari. Just open the damn thing,” I muttered to myself, urging my courage forward.
Inside the front cover was fresh, messy handwriting. Not faded at all like what was on the next page.
Sunny,
I hope this book tells you about what I still can’t say aloud.
I hope you’ll believe me.
Chance x
Surely, surely, nothing in this book could make things any worse.
Chapter 50
Mari
Sometime in September 2014
I don’t remember what day this happened. Frankly, I never thought I’d be sitting in my guest bathroom with the door locked to write this.
