Page 42 of Keeper
I grab onto both my earlobes, tormented between covering my ears so I don’t have to listen but desperate to know what Gareth will say back.
“Manchester didn’t kill Mum. And in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one with her when she died. Not you! And we sure as fuck weren’t in Manchester. We were in this house. Upstairs. In the room no one can enter. I was the one wiping her tears when she cried. I was the one holding her hand. All you did was yell at her. I was a fucking child, but I was more of a man than you ever were!”
“You fucking ungrateful…” Dad shoots around the table, his hands outstretched like he’s going to rip Gareth’s head off.
Gareth doesn’t run. He straightens and stands his ground, bracing for the hit. His dark eyes are full of determination as Dad grabs him by the shirt and slams him against the wall.
Where’s Vi right now? She’s the one who always puts a stop to them.When Dad slams Gareth against the wall again, I finally decide that I have to act. I stand up and scream, “Stop!”
The two freeze instantly, turning their heads to look at me, their breaths heavy like they’ve been running for miles. Dad’s eyes blink like he just realised what he’s done. He lets go of Gareth’s shirt and steps away from him. His face contorts with pain. Agony. Defeat.
“I won’t go back there,” Dad croaks, his eyes staring down at the floor. “I won’t go back to that place. I won’t see you play. Not there. Not for that team.” He covers his mouth to hide his trembling jaw. He looks old all of the sudden. Haggard. Completely broken. He looks up at Gareth. “I’ll lose you like I lost her.”
A strange guttural sound rips from his throat, and he turns and storms out of the kitchen. Gareth calls out to him, but he doesn’t turn back.
Hearing that pain in Dad’s voice breaks something inside of me. I’ve seen signs of his agony for years, but watching him lose it like that shakes me to my core. I don’t want to lose Gareth like Dad lost Mum. I don’t want to lose anyone in my family. This is bullshit!
My anger reaches a boiling point as I charge Gareth and shove him with all of my might. He doesn’t move. “Of all the teams you can play for, you have to go there? To United?” My voice cracks. I clear my throat and sniff hard, swiping at the moisture on my cheeks.
“Booker.” Gareth’s deep voice is resigned. Sad. “There are many reasons I want to play for them.”
“Why?” I scream. “So you can show Dad that you’re better than him? A better footballer? Who gives a toss about that, Gareth? What about us?”
“What about you?” he scoffs.
“You’re just going to bugger off to Manchester and never see any of us again.”
“I’ll still see you.”
“When?” I yell and shove my hands through my hair. “Dad’s right. We’re going to lose you. We’ll never see you anymore. Everything will go to shit like it did before.”
I turn to run out the back door, but he hooks my arm, stopping me in my tracks. His hand is huge on me. He’s so much bigger. Taller, thicker, stronger, older. He’s everything I want to be and now he’s leaving me behind.
“Booker.” He says my name through clenched teeth, pinning me with a seriousness to his eyes that I cannot accept. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you, kid.”
“Fuck you,” I spit and rip my arm out from his hand and run out the door without looking back.
What is love? Love means nothing if you still end up leaving.
Poppy’s blonde hair is a welcome sight as I reach the depths of the wooded park behind our house. She’s sitting on our tree. The tree where I first met her. She’s got a ball of yarn on her lap, two needles, and the workings of a knitted blanket. She looks up when she hears me approach. “Booker, what’s wrong?”
She drops the yarn and needles without a thought and rushes the rest of the way toward me. I turn, not wanting her to see my tears, but the softness of her touch on my back encourages them more.
“Gareth is leaving to play for Man U,” I say, looking out into the trees instead of at her green eyes that always see right through me. “He’s not going to live at home anymore.” A sob rises in my throat as she hugs me from behind. Her thin, pale arms wrap around my waist, but I can’t bring myself to touch her, even though every part of me wants to. “I hate this feeling, Poppy. It feels like after Mum died. Dad is going to be awful again. Losing Gareth will change him. It’ll change my family. We won’t be us anymore.”
“Shhh, you’re not losing Gareth.”
“He’s moving.”
“He’s Gareth. He’ll never go far. You guys mean everything to him.”
“We’re Harrises. We’re all supposed to be here for each other. Always. This feeling of losing someone…It hurts everything inside of me.”
“I know,” she murmurs into my back. “Loss is a pig of an emotion.” She loosens her grip and peeks her head around so she can look up into my eyes. “But, Booker, nothing loved is ever lost. It’s kept forever inside your heart.”
I roll my eyes but reach down and hold her arms around me. “I don’t ever want to lose you, Poppy.”
She half smiles and sings, “I’ll never leave you, Booker.”
