No Chance by Lisa Suzanne
CHAPTER 23: HANNAH
It’s silly to feel abandoned just because he didn’t sleep in the same bed as me.
Yet I do.
These feelings stem back through my history. First my parents left me through no fault of their own. I was tossed about in foster care, never really finding a place of my own until I found Brie again, and then a decade later, she left me, too.
I’ve always had that fear that anybody I get close to will leave me, but Brett’s literally my lifeline right now. I don’t think I realized I put him in that position until I woke up alone this morning.
Did he choose not to sleep beside me because of what he saw in the tub last night?
I’m freaking mortified over that. Like to the point that I’m debating leaving this tour entirely and figuring out a new path. Surely there are programs to help people in my situation...except now that Brett knows he has this child out there, would he even be willing to part with him? Then where does that leave me? Abandoned again by another person I love. Nobody leaves me on purpose, but the truth is that they all leave me anyway.
It’s all too much, and the feelings plow into me as I swipe away the tears. We’re still out on the balcony, and Chance is still munching Cheerios, and I should probably unstrap him from his chair and get on with our day but the grief is like a heavy blanket I can’t seem to toss off this morning.
At least I have my sunglasses on to try to hide the emotion from the baby.
But kids are smart. They know. They can feel it, too.
Brett told me to go somewhere, but where the hell do I go in a city I don’t know? I have a baby with me. How do I just pack up and go out for the day with him? This is all new to me, too, and it’s a lot of responsibility that I don’t really want. I didn’t sign up for this.
But the second I think that, guilt drenches me. I’m sure Brie would’ve preferred to be here, too.
I wish she was still here.
I miss her with every part of who I am.
She wasn’t just my sister. She was one part mother to me, one part best friend, and a huge part of my heart. And now she’s gone. I keep thinking that tired old cliché that she’ll just walk through that door at any minute, that this has all been some strange dream featuring all the worst possible things that could happen to me combined with some sort of Capital Kingsmen fantasy world.
But the ache piercing my chest and the tears burning down my cheeks are all too real.
I don’t know how long Brett will be gone, so I should probably attempt to compose myself in case he shows back up. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, including the baby...but sometimes the pain just becomes too much. And I suppose children need to see adults express and manage their emotions or else they’ll learn to express them in unhealthy ways. Or they’ll become robots who don’t express them at all and let them bottle up instead.
I try to draw in a deep breath, but that blanket is still suffocating me.
And wouldn’t you know it? Just as I’m attempting to pull myself together, the damn door opens and Brett steps out onto the balcony.
He takes one look at me and tilts his head a little as his eyes soften with something close to sympathy. I guess the sunglasses can’t hide the rest of my tear-stained, red, puffy face.
Instead of saying a single word, he unstraps Chance from the chair where he sits. He picks him up and holds him in his arms, and Chance touches the scruffy hair on his jaw. He giggles at the feel of it and does it again, and Brett chuckles softly. It’s a tender, sweet moment between a father and a son who haven’t bonded yet, but it’s definitely the start of something—and further evidence that just walking away from this tour isn’t an option for me.
“Come with me,” Brett says softly. He holds out a hand to me, and I take it as I allow him to help me up.
“I just need a minute,” I say. I grab my shoes from the bedroom and put them on, and then I go to the bathroom, where I flip my sunglasses to rest on top of my head. I inspect myself in the mirror for a second, and then I give up. There’s little hope for the red, watery eyes or the puffiness.
I blow my nose and splash a little water on my face. It felt good to cry, to let out a little bit of what’s been festering on the inside.
When I emerge from the bathroom, I spot Brett making a silly face at Chance. It marks the very first time I’m seeing Brett let go of the I’m too cool for this persona, and my chest feels a little funny at the sight of it.
“You ready?” he asks.
I nod even though I’m not sure what I’m getting ready for. He grabs a baseball cap and pulls it down low while I situate Chance in his carrier, and then we click the carrier into the stroller and head down the elevator to a car waiting out front. Ten minutes later we pull into the parking lot of the Denver Zoo.
“The zoo?” I ask as the driver navigates toward the main entrance.
He lifts a shoulder. “Have you ever left the zoo without a smile on your face?”
I can’t help a small laugh. “I’ve only been to the zoo twice that I can remember. Both were school field trips, and I don’t remember smiling much in general as a kid.”
He gives me a grim smile. “It’s a shame that that is something we have in common from our childhood, but today that all changes.”
And it does. We head right for the lions, and there’s some magical quality in the air as it starts to feel a bit like a date. Brett pushes the stroller, and we stop in front of the lion enclosure. We both search for a beat, and he points to a lion sleeping near the back of the exhibit.
We stare at the giant animal, and Brett yells, “Wake up!” A few people around us chuckle, and a few give him a dirty look, but the result is the same: the lion is totally unbothered by my obnoxious date.
We move toward the zebras next and watch as they munch on grass, and then the giraffes. There’s a special encounter there where we can feed the giraffes, and Brett raises a brow at me. I shrug. I’m game for anything.
We laugh as giant giraffe tongues come toward us, and some of the heavy darkness that has surrounded me for days begins to lighten. It doesn’t mean I miss her any less, and it doesn’t mean I’m not still reeling over my new life. But it does make me see that life has to go on, and that punishing myself by wallowing in the pain won’t change my situation.
“What’s your favorite animal?” he asks me as we stroll from the giraffes toward the tigers.
“Panda bear,” I answer immediately and without reservation. “You?”
“Komodo dragon.” His answer is immediate, too.
“Why?”
“They’re little beasts, man. Fierce as fuck. Why do you like pandas?”
“They’re cute, but they’re fierce, too. They’re surprising because they seem like these sweet, cuddly creatures who just snack on bamboo all day, but they have incredibly strong jaws to bite through those trees. I feel like, on a good day anyway, that’s kind of like me. Not the gorgeous kind of cute like you’re used to, maybe, but kind of cute and definitely fierce.”
“Wow, you put a lot of thought into that. I just picked the Komodo dragon because it’s kickass.”
I laugh. “I’ve always liked pandas, but when I learned that they symbolize peace and gentle strength, I felt like I’d found my spirit animal. Or, at least, the spirit of the animal I aspired for.”
“Strength,” he repeats. “Is that meaningful to you?”
I think of the ink on my back. Brie and I went together on my eighteenth birthday. I always wanted a tattoo, and I don’t even know why. It’s not really me, but I guess it is since I have one.
What we each got was her idea.
She said she wanted a word that was something she admired in me, something she aspired to be, and I should do the same. Because I felt like I was weak my entire life where I admired how strong Brie was, I went with strength. She chose happy. She said I was always smiling, that there was a ray of sunshine inside me that seemed to burst out, so her word was written in a rainbow.
I think, in the end at least, that having Chance brought her more happiness than not. I think that even though we were in a tough situation, that we didn’t have much and things could have been better...deep down she died happy.
And now of all times, the meaning of my tattoo seems to be greater than ever. I need the strength I pulled from my sister more than ever, but the one person I always relied on for it isn’t here anymore. I’m reminded of the words in her letter to me. She always saw me as strong, and I need to live up to how she saw me.
Instead of telling him all that, though, I simply say, “Yes. It’s something I aim to have.”
He presses his lips together, and he turns away from the tigers and we start walking toward the next exhibit. He pauses and faces me. “You have more of it than you give yourself credit for.” Both our eyes are hidden behind our sunglasses, but I still feel his gaze on me. He lowers his voice to a husky rasp. “And, for the record, I’ll take your brand of cute any day over whatever it is you think I’m used to.”
He turns at those words and starts off toward the polar bears, and I stand in place for a minute to catch my breath at the shock that lances through me because of his words.
